Theories in Chaos
by ReadingBlueWolf
Summary: One small change can make everything behave differently, which Stark should have known. Three years later he's still attempting to cope with the consequences.
1. They Stopped Dealing in Fish

_"It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.'_  
_I do not agree.  
The wounds remain.  
In time,  
the mind,  
protecting its sanity,  
covers them with scar tissue  
and the pain lessens.  
But it is never gone."  
―Rose Kennedy_

The billionaire took refuge in his work space tinkering with different, meaningless objects. It was unspoken knowledge that when he wasn't working, he walked around feeling like a chunk of his life was missing. When hands were at rest, the mind was hard at work reliving every failed moment, trying to find a way to return to what once was. Inspiring things no longer surrounded this shell of a man: no muse, no hopes, no need. A constant heartbeat and lungs that needed air were all that existed. It was similar to what a zombie must feel like—minus the desperate need to eat brains. The trend had actually been noticed a few months ago, but in reality he knew he had been doing this since.

It had been three years since Pepper had left. He had never been the same after that. It felt as if all the stars in the sky had gone out. If he stepped outside the confines of his house he was plagued with accusing looks. Each said he was at fault for the Pepper ordeal. The silent glares placed blame solely on his shoulders, slowly crushing him under their weight.

Truthfully, it was his fault and no one else's. Who in the scheme of things could be to blame? There was no scapegoat, no villain to blame; for once in his idolized life he had to take full responsibility. Since she had gone, he had spent life since just existing. What did you do when you lost the one person that had been your rock, your stability, and your everything? How did you cope with that?

"Sir, you might want to watch the report on television right now."

A dashing British accent brought Tony out of his reverie, and he looked towards the screen. "Jarvis, how can I watch it if you haven't put it on?"

"I was getting to it, sir." The television turned on with a click. Jarvis, the computer-slash-security system, held control of the electronics. Tony watched as a reporter on the screen spoke of a bombing.

"—in, reports are claiming that these explosives—while rumors deny they belong to Stark Industries—are said to be as powerful as something he could process. It is unclear where they came from and who made them. With at least three hundred and fifty dead and many more missing all we know for sure is mass chaos is ensuing in the city of Panvel."

"That can't be possible—"

Tony was interrupted by the workshop door opening. Every muscle in his body tensed. He hadn't allowed a visitor to enter in weeks. People were of no help at this point. The silence and isolation were better. Being alone meant not bringing others down with him or having to hear how happy they were. The ghosts were enough to deal with.

Turning his attention on the intruder, he relaxed slightly when saw it was Rhodey—Lieutenant Colonel James Rupert Rhodes—dressed in military attire as usual. It came as a small surprise because Rhodes had actually respected his privacy in this time. It made the once playboy thankful of his choice of best friend. So few had remained by him during the last few dark years, and of those select, he had pushed away most of them.

Despite being thankful, Tony didn't want company. In fact, company was the last thing on his list, but if Rhodes was here, then the missile on television was worse than it already looked. He resigned himself to the fact he had to listen; Rhodey needed him.

"Rhodes, nice of you to do a B&E. I thought that was against my constitutional rights."

"I see you're already watching what I've come to talk to you about," Rhodes commented, apparently ignoring the weak jest. He placed a briefcase on the glass table and flicked it open. "And I believe you giving me access codes into your house makes it very legal."

"I'm going to have to change them. Jarvis, set up a reminder to change the codes."

"Funny, Tony." He shook his head. "This is a serious matter that has placed the U.S. at high level security, ready to enter red."

"Doesn't that mean there are low levels of zombie outbreaks occurring?"

"Cute, Tony, real cute."

"And at red, it's a full scale Zombie Apocalypse. How do you go from a low level breakout to a full apocalypse in one color change? There's definitely something wrong with that. Shouldn't there be another color, like sunset in between to say 'hey, it's a bit more than a low level—"

"Stark!" Rhodes sharp tone caught his full attention. "I need you to focus on this matter. The only thing we know about this attack is that it's too big to be a suicide bomber. We don't know what it was, where it came from, or who the sender was. We don't know if they plan on attacking us or what their goal is."

Tony walked over and looked in the case—apparently Rhodes wasn't in the mood to joke. The case held a small paper pile of reports about the bombing and a thumb drive. The Lt. Colonel plugged the thumb drive into the computer which sat on the glass desk. Immediately screens of reading, "_Top Secret",_ popped up. He looked over the reports and then the documents that appeared on the screen. After a few minutes, Stark spoke, and for the first time in months—_years?_—he had his fast-talking speech back.

"It was much too big to be a suicide bomber—good assessment there, Sparky. That would have been a mess to clean up. A bomb would have been noticed—_hopefully_—and there would be more remnants—possibly car parts as well. I'm willing to bet it was a missile. It's odd that no one noticed it. Big flying thing coming towards you… Obviously it's not Santa and his reindeer—they have Santa there, right? The missile wasn't big enough to be from a country beyond…" he paused as he calculated and brought a map up on the touch screen. He then drew a circle. "It was from inside India. And here I was thinking they still deal with bows and arrows and trade in fish."

"Well, someone over there has clearly stopped dealing in fish." Rhodes looked it over—_clearly_ missing that joke as well. "I'll take this back to intelligence and see if they can find anything in that region. I'll let you know what they find. Then perhaps you can snuff whoever it is out. Okay, Tony?"

"Fantastic, Rhodes, really sounds great. Next time, see if you can beat the news, will ya?" Stark answered, practically pushing Rhodey out; glad to have silence once again.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony stood near the couch in his workshop looking at her. Her strawberry-colored hair, her blue eyes, her pencil skirt. He couldn't stop staring, and he begged her not to leave again.

"Please don't leave, Pep."

"I'm not staying."

"But you can't go. I-I-I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't work when it comes to this."

"I'll do anything."

"You can't change it, Tony, you never could."

He felt someone come up beside him, startling him.

The rough faced ex-playboy fell off the couch, fighting to right himself and find Pepper. He pushed himself to his knees and looked to where Pepper had stood. She was no longer there. Taking a moment, he looked around trying to figure out where he was. This was his workshop, but Pepper wasn't here—hadn't been there for three years.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Tony? Are you okay?"

Looking up, Tony found Rhodes standing there with a briefcase, and a worried look in his eyes. "Oh, hey Rhodey."

"Man, you don't look so good."

"I just woke up, and I slept on the couch. I don't think I would look like a bed of roses."

"I'm worried about you, man," said Rhodes, helping Tony to his feet. Stark watched as Rhodey then proceeded to the glass table and set a briefcase on it.

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. "That's touching that you're concerned, but I don't see a reason why you should be worried."

Rhodes eyed the liquor bottles lying about. "You're not the same. You don't go out, you don't work, you don't joke—"

"I tried joking last time you were here and you told me that missile was more important," Tony shot back.

"Even that wasn't the same," responded Rhodes, opening the case. Tony knew what he was thinking: Rhodey assumed his closest friend had already lost the will to do something more with his life, but there was a new low to Tony lately—a frightening low. Rhodes did not want to be bringing roses to a bed six feet in the ground. "It's been three years and you're still—"

"What have you brought for me?" deflected Stark, opening the briefcase.

Rhodes hesitated for a moment, then seemingly decided it was best not to ask any more personal questions despite concerns. He turned his attention to the silver briefcase.

"Intelligence found that the bomb was not normal. It seemed to have some odd energy signal and threw off electronics in the area before it hit, much like an EMP. They also discovered a power reading in the forests of India. It was minimal, but they think that it's only a little bit of a much larger energy signature. We also intercepted a video call," said the Lt. Colonel, and he plugged a thumb drive into the computer on the desk. After clicking a file, a video popped up.

_A fair skinned man stood in a white tiled room with a few gun men around him. His narrowed brown eyes bore into the camera. His voice was sharp, but low and melodic._

_"You promised that I would have immeasurable power. You lied to me," he said._

_"I have given you the tools to rule the world. You need to figure out how to use them."_ The voice that answered sounded more automated—like Jarvis but without without the finesse and great accent. Tony instinctively started running a deciphering program on it.

_"You did not warn me that we would have to figure out a way to harvest the raw power," growled the man._

_"If you do, you will be more powerful than anyone."_

_"When it's fighting back we cannot touch it. In general we cannot get close enough to do anything. It has not weakened its resistance. It has only grown stronger." He shook his head and dark locks of hair swished side to side. "This was not our bargain!"_

_"Resistance is futile. It will soon learn. Goodbye, Conrad, and good luck."_

The video went black.

Tony rubbed his chin as his program brought no results on the voice. What system could outsmart his own? The bigger question at the moment was: what were they referring to? "What do they have that's fighting back?"

"That's what we were wondering," replied Rhodes slowly—his movements stiff as he clicked off the video. "They act like it's a living creature."

"There is no creature that could cause an energy signature like that. Sure, there are creatures like the electric stingray or the electric eel—even the Mongolian Death Worm if you want to believe that crock—but no being alive can put off an energy signature like this. I can't believe it's robotic either. That's just… It's impossible. Are you assuming that this Conrad is located at the power source in India?"

"That's what we believe at the moment. There's speculation because the energy reading is so minute. There are a few intelligence members that believe this is not even located in India. They believe readings would be higher if they were."

"Maybe it's underground," Stark thought aloud. "Give me the location and I'll check it out. You know how I'm always helping you."

"I don't think it's safe for you to go in alone." Rhodes cast another glance about the workshop. "I can suit—"

"Either you can give it to me or I can find it myself, Rhodes. Which would you prefer?" he snapped. Apparently stealing one of his suits a few years back and helping Iron Man out a few times qualified Rhodes for position of sidekick. Well, War Machine—as he went by—had another thing coming.

The man behind War Machine sighed. Tony knew he had one when Rhodes pulled up a map and pointed to a small area in the forests. "That's what you're looking for. It's somewhere in there."

"I'll be safe, honey. Call you when I get home and everything. Give the kids a kiss for me." Tony turned sharply from Rhodes, dismissing him.

"Don't get killed, Tony. We need you."

"Of course you do."

Tony waited until he knew for certain that Rhodes was gone. His brow furrowed. He hadn't missed the Rhodey's _subtle_ glances at the bottles in the workshop. It shouldn't be his concern. Hadn't Tony stopped talking to another friend a few months back over the bottle issue?

"Thanks for waking me, Jarvis," he growled, grabbing a Scotch bottle that wasn't empty and filling a glass. "Why even _bother_ with a security system?"

"Sorry, sir," replied Jarvis. "I assumed you would have woken up when the doorbell rang several times. And loudly, I might add."

"Well, you should have warned me," Tony snapped.

"Honestly sir, you would not have woken."

"I would have, Jarvis; you're just not doing your job."

"In your quest to drink away your entire fortune, you lose the ability to function."

"Mute." Now Jarvis was turning on him. Turning to his only friend in the entire world, the glass helped him back to sleep, leaving the mission for the morning.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The next day, Tony found himself rocketing towards the forests of India. He may have been a bit hung over, but after drinking all these years, it didn't affect him like it would a skunk—_er... person_. His sheets were not to the wind. Luckily, he was well versed in the ways of the bottle so he could function just fine.

As Iron Man, he could find the readings without anyone's help. It wasn't hard for a genius like himself; this was child's play. This Conrad had put up a signal inviting anyone to come find him—a_mateurs_. At this rate, he would be home by dinner which meant being able to once again seclude himself within his workshop. Scanning the trees he located where the levels were the highest knowing that would be the best place to land.

"Well," he sighed to Jarvis—whom he had reconciled with that morning—as he dropped to the ground with a thump, "at least it's not Vietnam."

Tony paused when he heard "Sympathy for the Devil" over the speakers, and rolled his eyes. "Not now, Jarvis."

"Just trying to lighten the mood, sir," responded the computer, quickly halting the song.

He wasn't actually upset with the AI for playing the song—he just couldn't handle the music shrieking in his ears at the moment. Maybe he _was_ a bit hung over. However, it had successfully somewhat lifted his spirits—which was desperately needed. Turning back to the matter at hand, he commenced the search. Tony quickly realized that in the area there were nothing but trees, more trees and some dirt. Perhaps this was just a tad bit harder than he assumed. There had to be an entrance somewhere though. He stood where the signals had come from. How difficult could it really be?

Tony soon found out that searching was far worse than searching for a needle in a haystack. At least when scouring the haystack, a needle would eventually make itself known. In the sweltering climate, there were heat, trees and dirt; not the caves, tunnels or doors needed to house the supposed underground facility. He would have been willing to bet there was a facility that lay under the rocks. Had he really lost his touch?

After wandering around half the day in the hot and humid climate, a less than thrilled Tony finally found a cave entrance. He had to hand it to Conrad; he might make the welcome mat easy to see, but the door was a bit better hidden. And by hidden he meant buried under bushes, in between a few trees and located one spot below Hell. Cautiously entering into the cave, he was forced to descend into almost complete darkness, being guided by thermal imaging alone. After hours of fruitless searching, he turned to leave—thinking that Conrad had bested him again. It was then that he came upon level ground and lights. The energy levels grew higher as he got his first look into the underground facility.

The floors were smooth, buffed metal, the walls were white marble and the ceiling was smooth bedrock. Lights hung from the ceiling every ten feet. Oddly, there were only a few hallways or doors. Tony found it shocking that someone could have created this place with no knowledge of it being built—and that someone apparently had more money than him. The other thing that Stark found unusual about this whole set up was the fact there were no guards.

Walking quietly—or as quietly as he could in his suit—he explored the place. Poking in a few rooms and looking down a few hallways, he opened one door to find a very large and high roofed security chamber. In the middle, it appeared as if something had been contained there. Chains with manacles hung suspended in air as if something had been hanging from them.

Tony found this odd and scanned the room. "What do you think, Jarvis?"

"It appears as if there was something kept in this room, but there are no readings that suggest what it might have been, sir."

"I could have come to that assumption myself. In fact, I did. Thanks." Tony turned back into the hallway, as a chill came over him. He still hadn't seen anyone. "Jarvis, check the air. Do you get any readings on chemicals in the atmosphere?"

"No, sir. There is nothing. I also do not have any readings on life forms."

"Maybe it's a surprise party for me. I hope there's cake. I could go for cake."

Stark continued through the facility as the suspicion something was wrong continued to grow. It was way too silent. How could Conrad run a joint like this without a living soul? They couldn't be hiding; Jarvis hadn't located any heat signatures. Looking down the hallway, he saw red numbers flash through his mind. He startled momentarily. It was a countdown with a mere ten minutes and thirty-six seconds remaining—perhaps he had a bit too much to drink. Stark tried to shake the vision from his thoughts. His lips pursed as he traversed another hallway. Pausing, he suddenly realized what the numbers meant and why the place was so quiet. It was being evacuated.

Sprinting down the hallway, Tony froze halfway; eyes wide. In front of him was a person—he thought it was a person—but he could see through the… The wraith? Ghosts didn't exist and yet here was one in front of him—maybe the alcohol had gotten to him more than he thought. The person, whose gender he couldn't determine, motioned for him to follow and glided down the hallway. It wasn't the hallway where he came in from, but the apparition seemed determined for him to follow.

Against his better judgment—due to the fact the place was most likely in 'destruction mode', and he still questioned how hung over he actually was—Tony followed the ghost down different hallways until he reached a large air hangar where it immediately vanished. He stood gawking for a moment, before looking at the area before him.

The hangar carved into the rock was enormous. Tony's eyes shifted toward the ceiling where he noticed it stood open on metal sliding hinges. The ground below his feet was smooth and loaded with high tech planes. Stark couldn't believe that air crafts such as those existed in that part of the world.

That's where he first came upon human life. People were rushing to load into the planes and taking off through the opened ceiling. Tony had to admire the fact that the airplane engines could change angles allowing them to quickly take off from a hovering stand point. It was very useful for the amount of space that had been allotted for the hangar.

He startled as shots ricocheted off his armor. Following to where the bullets originated from, Stark saw gunmen had finally shown up. He heard shouts of "_Iron Man!_" as he quickly assessed the situation. Guards were trying to subdue—possibly kill—him. Others hadn't even noticed his presence as they fled from the impending destruction. Despite the semi-organized effort to take him out, the place was in utter chaos.

"Looks like I'm not going to get cake on this trip, Jarvis."

"No, sir, it does not."

His hand rose, firing a repulsor blast at a group of guards, and blasted them backwards. Another group rushed him. With a small EMP burst, they stopped short as they tumbled to the ground. This allowed him to move right past them. Conrad may be a bit smarter than Tony had thought, but the hired help wasn't. Turning, Stark looked at the sight before him, partly in wonder.

Before him was the man named Conrad, staring directly at him. He was perhaps a few inches taller than Tony without his armor. In one hand he held a gun—his H.U.D. system identified it as a Fabrique Nationale Five-SeveN. What caused him to pause however, was what Conrad held in his other hand. Firmly gripped by the arm, stood a girl.

The girl seemed no more than sixteen with brown curly hair and brown scared—or was it sad?—eyes. She was gagged, hands bound behind her back. Tony noticed shackles bound her feet so she couldn't run. The poor girl's clothes were torn and tattered, and her malnourished body looked bruised. She was dirty and grimy, and was she… Had she been swimming? Water dripped from her body as though she had been in a pool.

"Mr. Stark, what a pleasure it is for you to join us," Conrad said, watching as Tony approached him. "I am truly sorry you have to come at a time when we are on our way out. Under different circumstances I would be much more hospitable."

"Jarvis, run a scan of the area. Focus on Conrad and the girl," whispered Tony. He then spoke to Conrad. "I couldn't help hearing a few rumors about you and this place, so I just dropped by to see what you were up to. I gotta say I disapprove of how your facility is run. It doesn't really scream evil lair like it should. Nice planes though. Unfortunately those aren't enough to save you. I am going to have to shut this place down and take the girl off your hands."

"She is not yours to take. I paid too much for her."

"Yeah, slave trade is illegal, last I checked," Tony said as he advanced.

"So is breaking and entering."

"That would come back to bite me in the ass," Stark murmured to Jarvis, raising his voice to speak to Conrad again. "I'm sure my minor offense will be overlooked in light of your sex trafficking."

Conrad smirked. "I've heard you believe you have a sense of humor."

"What can I say? I like to entertain."

Tony was about ten feet from Conrad. A good sprint and the girl could very easily end up in his possession. Conrad seemed to sense this and brought the gun up to the girl's temple as he slowly backed towards the aircraft that Conrad seemed to have created.

"Don't come any closer, Mr. Stark, or I will put an end to her life."

Tony stopped and looked at the girl again. Fear had left her eyes and she looked almost hopeful that Conrad would pull the trigger. This look was something he could relate to. How many times had he wanted to end the pain and suffering? How many times had he wanted the ghosts to stop coming permanently? This girl, however, was so young. She had so much to live for. He couldn't let her die.

On top of that, hadn't Conrad said just prior that he paid too much for the girl? This madman refused to hand the girl over because he had bought her for a hefty price. Why threaten to kill her then? It had to be a gimmick to buy time. "You wouldn't do that, Conrad. Besides, she's too pretty. So, just hand her over."

"How lovely; you've done your homework on me," responded Conrad. "However, I just can't hand her over to you. You're right; she's much too valuable to me." He walked up the steps to the cockpit, dragging the girl with him.

Tony watched as the girl's eyes settled on him. This time, he didn't see fear. Instead, there appeared to be a different light. _Hope?_ She seemed to have a new determined look in her eye. As she continued to stare at him, Tony saw a picture of an island, somewhere…

He was interrupted by Conrad pulling her into the cockpit. If he thought he was going to get away that easily, he had another thing coming. Tony made a dash toward the craft. Ten seconds flashed in his mind. The window to the cockpit closed. The pilot maneuvered for takeoff. Tony heard his the soft whirl of the thrusters ignite as the craft lifted and started its ascent.

If it had been a normal plane, he would have caught up in no time. However, the fact the plane was so maneuverable shocked Tony. It was able to take off swiftly, making it almost impossible for him to keep up. The U.S. was about five years out from this type of technology, and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s crafts just weren't up to this standard. Tony was left utterly unprepared.

Tony flew past the jet as the power of the explosion flung him somewhere into the depths of the forest. He landed in the jungle and blacked out.

* * *

**Good morning Starshine the Earth says hello! Or possibly it's evening, afternoon, elevenses, tea time, or some other time wherever you are.**

**This takes place after Iron Man 2 and before the Avengers. Some of the ages, dates, times and events have been changed, altered or modified to fit with the flow of the story. For more information see my profile.  
**

**There are some dark themes, violence, language and innuendos, but it shouldn't be above T. If anything changes, the rating will as well. Also, there are references to other movies, comics and the like, so keep an eye out.**

******As a general note, I'm always looking to put fresh paint on this and make it a stronger story. From time to time chapters get a face-lift with a few sentence restructures, but nothing that changes the story. If you see something, please point it out.**

**I do not own anything, except my own characters. I just tinker with the lives of those that I love. I hope you enjoy.**


	2. Bamboozled

**I own nothing except my own characters. I just invite the others into my sandbox to play. Enjoy!**

* * *

_ "Strange as it may seem,  
I still hope for the best,  
even though the best,  
like an interesting piece of mail,  
so rarely arrives,  
and even when it does it can be lost so easily."  
― __Lemony Snicket__; __The Beatrice Letters_

There were few moments when the wraiths lessened their hold; each instance they were gone meant a single second of peace. These few moments Tony sought out, even fought for. These moments lasted longer when his mind wasn't idle. When he was focused on a task, these specters scattered, leaving only the mission behind.

Ever since the jungle venture, Tony had camped out in his workshop, tirelessly scouring the globe for the girl that Conrad had control of. It helped to get his mind off the Pepper situation, which meant the specters were momentarily gone, and he couldn't be more grateful for it. She provided a goal and a break from the wraiths. Stark's days became spent combing through every database on the planet looking for this brown-eyed girl. While it might have become an obsession, it kept the ghosts at bay and the glass out of his hand—at least for the time being.

Jarvis had accomplished what Tony requested at the facility: scanning the area and people. While the AI had given him a good picture of the young girl, he hadn't enough time to obtain more information on Conrad or his operations. The man of iron was not used to someone getting the upper hand. Maybe he was a bit rusty.

Focusing—mostly obsessing—on the girl, he ran scans against every person on the planet. Any database available and a few he created were constantly pouring over pictures of people comparing them to the girl. Conrad had to have gotten her somewhere. People just didn't appear on Earth with no prior life. For weeks, this intense hunt continued and after all of his research, all the dead ends, Stark realized the girl did simply not exist.

This brought a few issues to mind. Where had the girl come from? She was certainly real enough—he had seen her with his own eyes and Conrad had been able to touch her. What made her so valuable? Did she know about the power source? Did she have a connection to the power source? Maybe she was Conrad's child?

The thought of her being Conrad's child didn't make sense. Conrad claimed to have bought her; a claim Tony believed solely based on the video that had been intercepted. So where did he buy her from? No, the question was, who did he buy her from? Who was Conrad talking to in that video? The video might be the key to unlocking everything, but that was a dead end. After all his work on deciphering the video, he had come up empty handed, being unable to break the encryption.

Tony shrugged off his mounting frustration for the moment as he brought up the picture of the little girl. Something in her eyes said she was older and had seen more than her age let on. She seemed… Intelligent? Smart? Those didn't describe the look in her eyes. There was something more to her. What importance did she have for Conrad's?

The more he looked at the picture, the more he picked out. While she seemed to fear her captor, she wanted out by any means necessary. That was her look when Conrad held the gun to her forehead; her eyes pleaded for him to pull the trigger. However, Conrad hadn't, and she was forced to go on.

He knew how that felt—to see death as a better option than life, when it appeared things would never get better. When the demons became too strong and no amount of alcohol could keep them away. When no amount of sympathy or company could help. Those darkest times were when he contemplated finding another way out. It would have been easy too if excuses hadn't kept popping up. Jarvis would interrupt, or Rhodey would text, or Dummy would idiotically spray him with the fire extinguisher, and he would drop the idea to become engrossed in something that eased the pain if only for a bit.

Tony shook his head and turned to the picture in which the girl looked hopeful. Those brown eyes watched Iron Man intently. Why had she seemed hopeful? Was she looking for help or was there something else behind that look? Maybe he was reading her wrong. Was he being set up and this was a gimmick of Conrad's?

Regardless of the girl's motive, Pepper would want him to save her. She would implore him to and this gave him a new goal. With this fresh passion, he came up for air for the first time in years. This girl seemed to breathe life back into him while bringing another group of unknown phantoms with her. It was a catch-22, but if he could succeed maybe he could scatter these wraiths permanently.

Sighing, Stark turned back to searching the globe for a disturbance. The energy signature had been slightly different from the everyday ones that lit up the world. This should have made the minor oddity easier to find. Once again however, Conrad bested Tony.

"This is like searching for Waldo." Tony ran a hand over his face. "It's not like his signature is that unique."

"Perhaps your search is too wide, sir."

"I can't narrow it, Jarvis. The problem is he could be anywhere. Shouldn't you know this?" Tony sighed. He had tried starting out in India, thinking Conrad had possibly gone to another location there, only to come up empty. With no other leads, he was forced to expand his search to the entire world. This caused a desperate scour of the globe in hopes of getting lucky, but to no avail.

Tony's mood was not helped by his utter lack of sleep. Each passing day, he grew more irate as every night, he dreamt of that island. These dreams that replaced the ones he had of Pepper were of no relief to him. Every night, he was on the island, trying frantically to save the girl. Every dream ended with him failing and waking with a start. It began to plague his every waking second as well. His mind began to see images like wraiths, coming to haunt his every moment.

Despite being used to this, these dreams were worse. These specters the girl brought with her dug their talons into his soul and haunted every bit of his time. There was no escaping from these demons. Stark found the more he focused on the girl, the worse his world became. However, while he may have wished for the lesser imps that tortured him when it came to Pepper, he knew this girl needed him.

In the chaos, two months ticked by without a sign of the girl. One day, as Jarvis ran a daily scan of the globe, Tony's thoughts ran away with him. Where had Conrad gone? How had he disappeared off the face of the Earth? Where did he take her? What was her importan—

"Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes approaching, sir."

Tony blinked and stiffened as he came back to the world of the living. He looked at his screens. "Close," he murmured, causing information to disappear. Stark looked up as Rhodes entered. "Thanks, Jarvis. You actually were of use. Maybe I won't get rid of you."

"What a relief, sir."

"Haven't seen you in weeks, Tony. Thought you might have died." Rhodes strode into the workshop.

"Thanks for the warm greeting as always, Rhodey," responded Tony. "Nice to see you too."

"What have you been doing?" The man came to a stop next to Stark.

"I'm exploring into the people who made the missile since obviously you won't be able to find it without my expertise." Tony watched readings and charts pop—maps and information on the missile now lit the screen.

"Exploring or searching for them?"

Tony shrugged. His blood hound work hadn't brought up anything regardless of the answer. "I have a dream to put them to justice. Especially for their bad taste in locations and the fact it wasn't even an evil lair. Even a church is more ominous. Russia would be a much lovelier climate and they're used to explosions. They wouldn't mind."

"Yes, I'm sure your attitude is getting you far," replied Rhodes.

"It actually is, thank you. I'm about to win the humanitarian award for it. I'm also up for the Nobel Peace Prize."

"I heard you donated money to help rebuild Panvel."

"And I'm doing a fine, active job bringing that city to more glory than it had before the attack."

"Sure sounds like it, Tony, especially since I don't think you've left this room for weeks."

Tony followed Rhodes glance around the workshop. Dirty plates and glasses were scattered about as well as random, unfinished projects. As Rhode's eyes scanned over the empty liquor bottles, Tony saw concern on the colonel's face. "I have left, Rhodey. Ask Jarvis. I eat, drink, sleep… I think you're familiar with the routine."

"Are you still drinking, Tony?"

"I just said I drink."

"I meant alcohol."

"Do I appear intoxicated at this moment to you?"

"Not now, but—"

"Do I ever appear intoxicated? Anyway, stop worrying, dear. I've got everything handled."

Rhodes sighed. "Tony, I don't think you're living in the real world at the moment. I know you have these dreams—"

"What dreams? I'm not having dreams," Tony cut in, wondering if Rhodes somehow knew about the haunting nightmares. Would Rhodes request that he see some quack doctor or be put in a ward to undergo an evaluation? Tony had often thought that others wanted to put in him in the loony bin and get him some help, there were a few occasions he had contemplated going there himself.

"You said you had a dream to bring them to justice."

"Right, that. I do have that as a dream."

"Like I was saying, Tony, sometimes you need to make your dreams a reality. Bring them into the real world. Get _out_ into the real world. Look on the bri—"

"Stop." Tony held up his hand. His thoughts began to stray to something other than his possible visit to the asylum.

"What?"

"Shhh, wait."

"Oh, I know that look, Tony. What are you thinking?"

Tony nodded as a new thought formed. He looked at Rhodes. "Okay, Rhodey. Thanks for stopping by. Come back soon." He rose and began to push Rhodes out of his workshop.

"Tony, what's going on? What are you doing?" Rhodes stopped. "Tony, what are you thinking?"

"Rhodey, I'll tell you at a later time. I'll thank you in my speech for winning the Medal of Honor. But for now, you have got to go." Tony shoved Rhodes out of the workshop and shut the door behind him.

"Tony!" The glass wall muffled his friend's voice.

Stark waved. "Bye, Rhodes. I'll make sure to write."

After a few more tense moments, Rhodes turned and left—none too happy about being thrown out. When he disappeared Tony turned to the desk again. "Jarvis? Jarvis, wake up."

"Yes, sir?"

"About time, sleepy head. Maybe I will program a new system. Jarvis, bring up all islands around the world." Tony watched as a map of the world came up and all continents were eliminated. "Good, now eliminate the tropical ones. Uh huh… I need ones that are in a colder climate. Good. Now run energy scans on those islands and see if anything comes up."

"Right away, sir."

"Why didn't I think of this earlier?" He sighed and rolled his eyes. The answer, if Stark was right—and he always was—was so simple he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. "When I was there, Jarvis, I kept seeing things in my mind. At first it was the count down until the place blew. Then there was a ghost. Right before the place blew, I looked at this girl one last time and I saw this island. I don't know where it is, but I've been seeing it ever since. I believe it exists. Rhodes said, 'Make your dreams a reality.'"

"I've found an island that is putting up a reading. It's not much, but it might be enough."

"Good, I'll suit up. Program a flight route." Tony moved toward his gantry.

"How about you try not to cause them to evacuate and blow up the facility this time, sir? I don't want to spend another few months looking around the globe for your dreams." Jarvis pulled up images of the island.

Tony paused and looked at the pictures. His heart almost stopped as he realized the island matched the image that had been haunting his thoughts for two months now. "I'll work on that technique. Let's hope I find her."

*TiC*TiC*TiC*

Stark arrived at the island well after dark. Mist surrounded the entire place so stealth was easy. There on the island stood an old castle that was comprised of mostly rubble. He had to give Conrad credit; this place was a lot better than the last one. It could possible say Evil Lair. Between the silence and the mist it was eerie enough.

Tony picked his way quietly through the ruin and debris. Several times he tripped over various rocks and roots—the area was more treacherous than a child's playroom. After winding his way through the stone overhangs and boulders, he arrived at a descending spiral staircase. Following the dark and dingy stairwell, it led into a narrow dim hallway. At the end of the hallway, Tony paused; two guards stood talking about internal affairs.

"Apparently, Conrad thinks it's safe enough to leave the premises for a few days," said one man.

"Well, it's a good thing he got off before the mist came in," said the second.

"He must be feeling pretty confident after putting Iron Man off our trail."

The second man clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "So why then is the girl still bound?"

"He always wants it locked up tightly. He also thinks Iron Man may return at some point in the future." The first man laughed. "Iron Man will _never_ find us here."

Silence filled the hallway for a few moments, before the second man spoke up. His voice was quieter."Why does he refer to the girl as an it?"

"He says he's not sure what the girl is," replied the first man. "These are things you'll pick up on as you work here. Rumor has it that the girl knows about some great power source, something that could make Anthony Stark look like a nightlight. I think Conrad might be out of his mind, but he's kept that girl chained up in containment chambers for years now."

"Years? How long?"

"Twelve-ish, I've heard. I'm not exactly sure. I've only been here a few years."

"But she can't be more than, what, sixteen? She was four when he took her?"

The first man chuckled. "You would think that she's sixteen, right? I haven't seen her age much in years. I heard she looked about ten when they brought her in and now she looks sixteen. There's something more to that girl that the boss ain't sharing."

"That's why he's hiding her from everyone?"

"Especially Stark, now that he's caught wind of her. If anyone can unlock those secrets, Conrad seems to fear that Stark can."

Well, Conrad had one thing right; Tony was great at getting women to spill their secrets. He used to be a lot better before he was with Pepper. He might be a bit rusty about it now, but this wasn't a girl that he could romance. She was a child, a child that was in desperate need of Iron Man's help.

In moments, Tony had stepped out from behind the wall, and tested a new taser dart. A smirk crossed his face as the two men fell to the floor twitching like fish on land.

"That wasn't so bad, Jarvis."

"That's not exactly subtle, sir."

"It's not as if I used the repuslor on them." Tony rolled his eyes.

After waiting to see if others would respond, he crept down another tunnel to the right. The hallways had been etched into the stone under the castle ruins and were smooth. Someone had taken great care to make this place look nice. Tony sighed. He could have done a better job.

In one room on the left, he found security halfheartedly manning the screens for intruders. They must have assumed they were safe. Conrad hadn't wised up about help from the last time Tony was here. The two guards found themselves in the same predicament as the first two. While they twitched on the floor, Tony scanned the screens in the room.

The security room seemed small and dark due to the vast majority of screens that lined the walls. Jarvis counted over a hundred screens, each labeled on the bottom left hadn corner in dark green. From the vast number of monitors, Tony assumed the place was enormous.

"Jarvis, you are scanning the place this time, right?"

"Of course, sir. It appears as if they do not know the surprise party is coming despite your new toy."

"And you were worried you would have to search the globe more."

"You haven't found her yet, sir."

"That's irrelevant." Tony smirked and felt his chest puff slightly out. If this kept up, he would be home in time for a night cap. "Are you uploading their files?"

"It seems as if I cannot hack into their systems. You would manually have to plug into the main interface in their main laboratory."

His face fell. Conrad had gotten him again.

Tony glanced about the screens and eventually found the main lab on the right wall. Scientists were bustling about doing different things; many were at computers typing as if their life depended on it—which was probably true. All of them were dressed in white sterile coats and had on blue scrubs under them.

On the screen just above it, there was an O.R. room being prepped. Tony's brow rose as he wondered what they were planning to operate on. Something was odd about the entire operation. He looked over the screens again, trying to find the containment chamber like last time. However, it did not seem to exist in this facility.

Tony paused in thought. If he was going to find the girl, he would probably have the best luck in the holding cells—which were located two floors down according to a map on the left wall. However, the laboratory would give him much more information and he could find out more of what they were up to. His chances of hacking into their systems were also higher in the lab. It was a risky move, but perhaps he could gain the information and the girl.

"Well, Jarvis, what do you suggest?"

"I suggest them not realizing you are around, sir."

"I think we've pretty much come to that agreement already. What's a good approach to getting rid of them?"

"I would not recommend trying to taser everyone. However, isn't it always best to use their tricks against them? You may force their hand and bring her to light."

"Good idea, Jarvis. I knew I brought you along for a reason." Tony searched the large control panel in front of him. Everything had to be run from here and he was right. Smirking, Tony hit the evacuation button and alarms began to blare. Screens filled with people fleeing what they feared may happen. Watching for signs of the girl only led to disappointment; she did not appear. He finished by shutting down the entire security system.

Rushing into the laboratory when it was clear, he began to sort through files, then plugged a USB drive into the main frame to download their files.

"Jarvis, I want everything. Clean them out and add a virus in there for good measure."

"Right away, sir. You may also want to note that they are planning to operate on the girl."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing, sir, but Conrad seems to be attempting a few unethical techniques. He plans to open up her skull and her heart. His orders seem strange compared to his other requests."

"Other requests?"

"It appears as if he normally tries shock treatments and torture. He has never tried anything this extreme before. I would suggest finding her; this may be your last chance."

"Thanks, J. I'll keep that in mind." Tony nodded as he glanced about the room.

Papers lined the floor. Chairs stood pushed out or flipped over. Machines still beeped softly from their use of minutes prior. Tony glanced up and saw a mirror on one side of the room. Normally, he was would have stopped to admire himself, but his mind was elsewhere. He turned his attention back to the files on the monitors that popped up. One by the name of Project Diamond caught his attention. In the comfort of his workshop with a Scotch in hand, he would have to go over that. After gathering all the data he could glean from their computers, he glanced up at the odd mirror again, only to realize it wasn't a mirror, but a window.

Beyond the window was an enormous room. In the middle was a giant glass container—looking similar to a tube—filled with a transparent greenish liquid. Below the tube appeared to be a three story drop. Within the container floated the girl he sought. His jaw dropped. Who could keep another human being in that position?

The girl's head drooped down and her body seemed limp. Her arms and legs were held in place by chains. Wires and cords were attached to her and the way they came off her back made it look like she had wings. She reminded him of a fallen angel. The question of whether she alive ran through his mind.

"Jarvis, can you get a reading on her?"

The AI was quiet for a few moments. "She appears to be alive; sedated is all, sir, possibly for the surgery."

Tony noticed the alarms had ceased. They must have realized it was false. That meant there were mere minutes before the others returned. He shook his head. He was not leaving here without her this time. Despite the silence of alarms, Jarvis mentioned she was in danger. Stark had to rescue her by any means necessary.

"I would hurry, sir. It appears that they have realized your ploy."

Tony sighed as he walked to the window. "What would I do without you, Jarvis?"

He blasted out the window as his boot thrusters ignited. He hovered over to where the girl was suspended. Tapping on the glass, it made a resounding thunk. The girl, however, did not respond to the tap. Backing up a bit he aimed his hand at the glass. An repulsor blast lit up the room.

The glass cracked and shattered into pieces as the liquid rushed out. The girl's body dropped. The cords tensed to hold her suspended in air. A few cables snapped, but the chains on her wrists and feet held her steady. The wires or cables covered the majority of her body. From what he could see, she was clothed in next to nothing. A tube top covered her chest, and what appeared to be boxer shorts covered the lower part of her. Over her mouth was some sort of advanced oxygen mask—looking similar to what a fighter jet pilot wore.

Tony held the girl as he broke her chains and ripped off the cords. He proceeded to toss her body over one shoulder. Flying back into the laboratory, he did a quick assessment. From the hall, loud footsteps were echoing as were voices from guards and people. He had to hide.

Pulling a few hoses and breaking a few pipes in the ceiling caused smoke to fill the room. Men rushed into the unknown as Tony slipped out. The smoke quickly filled the hallway and slithered down the corridors. Iron Man crept back towards the entrance and up the steps to the exit.


	3. I Am Iron Man

**Enjoy! XD  
**

* * *

_Just because everything is different__  
__doesn't mean anything has changed._  
_-Irene Peter_

She awoke abruptly, gasping for air. Flashes of red and gold crossed her vision, and a few moments passed before she righted herself. In the next instant, she was on her feet trying to take a defensive stance. She stepped backwards, tripping over a chocolate brown coffee table with a glass top—her legs wobbling from lack of use. Icy stone pressed against her bare feet.

The real issue appeared when she tried to stretch her arms. As they spread apart, they were suddenly stopped about a foot apart by an electrical green current—reminding her of lightening. Her eyes followed the green toward a silver cuff located on each wrist. As she brought her hands together, the current disappeared. A brow rose as she inspected the cuffs. _What is this?_

Her gaze dropped down to the revealing outfit Conrad kept her in. _Conrad._ She winced. The man had kept her chained—rarely seeing the light of day. Grimacing, she searched for something to cover herself with. Before locating anything however, her ears caught a voice talking to her. She tensed and looked up.

"Good morning, star shine."

The voice startled the girl and she glanced over to see a man on a stool. He held a screw driver in one hand and some round contraption in the other. She swallowed roughly—without reply—and eyed the rest of the surroundings.

The stranger worked at a kitchen counter. Including the stool he sat on, there were three—all were silver in color. The counter at which they were placed was dark in color and she recognized it as granite. On a back counter there were several silver appliances. White cabinets sat nestled against the walls. Her brow rose. Everything was neat and clean—sterile almost. Was this a new facility of Conrad's?

Her eyes moved about the rest of the room. It was half-moon in shape with glass creating the rounded wall of the half-moon. The walls were painted a soft grey. A fire place sat on the wall to the right of the kitchen and appeared as if it hadn't seen flames in a long time.

Her makeshift bed was a white curved couch with sharp edges and its back was to the window. A blanket lay across the cushions. She should make for that and cover herself up. However, she glanced to the kitchen again and spotted a silver fridge. Her stomach roared at the thought. When was the last time she had eaten something more than a small slice of stale bread? When was the last time she had any food, actually? Despite her famished state, she held her ground and neglected the blanket momentarily.

"I promise I don't bite. Well, I do, but I'll make sure to not bite you," said the man. He turned his bar stool towards her and leaned lazily against the counter. Halting the tinkering, the man looked over at her. His brownish-blue eyes looked her over.

"Where is the one who saved me?" she asked softly—eyes darting around.

"You're looking at him," replied the man, putting down the object and screw driver.

"You?" She edged towards the blanket on the couch.

"Yes, me. Who else would have saved you?"

"Do not play around," she whispered, snatching the blanket and quickly covering herself up. Her eyes traveled to her left. A balcony with a glass railing rest past a window, and beyond that was a sight that made her eyes widen. A calm ocean with gentle waves made its home behind the place she was housed in.

Turning from the captivating sight, her thoughts went back to the man. Memories brought up glimpses of red and gold again, but also metal now. Some robot-like person had been carrying her. "You cannot be him. I remember red and gold. I remember… flying and… Its body was metal. You are not metal. You are of flesh."

"I take it you're familiar with armor?" he replied. "That armor's one of my brilliant ideas."

"You cannot be a robot and a human. That is impossible."

"I could be a cyborg."

"A what?"

The man shook his head. "I promise I'm the one who saved you from Conrad."

The girl paused when Conrad was brought up. A brow rose. "Let's say that I now believe you. How did you know where I was?"

"Because I'm practically God."

"Do not give yourself that much credit. How did you know?" Her eyes cautiously swept the room. Was this a new trick Conrad was playing?

"I looked for an energy signal."

"There was an energy signal in the other place, was there not? You did not save me there."

"I didn't know you were in India or I would have saved you sooner. By the time I saw you, you were being hauled onto the fighter jet look-alike, and then the evil lair exploded. You know this though," the man stated as he rose.

"Perhaps… How did you know where to find me now? Conrad hides well."

"I had this vision of an island. It was the strangest thing, like I had been influenced by a good narcotic." He chuckled, running a hand through his dark-brown short hair.

"You cannot be the man," said the girl. Resorting back to her previous argument, her voice rose louder. "The one I saw was metal, and it was red and gold with a-a—"

"With a bright light in his chest?" He tapped the middle of his torso.

She had failed to see the light shining through—a mistake like that wouldn't happen again. She eyed the light, then him and bit her lip for a moment in thought. "The man who came after me; they called Iron Man."

"That's me."

"What an odd name for a person…" She looked off to the side, catching a glimpse of another room to the right, between the kitchen and the fireplace wall. Her attention turned back to the man as he slowly approached. "They referred often to a man named Anthony Edward Stark. He is the owner of Stark Enterprises—"

"Stark Industries," he interrupted.

Her brow rose before she continued. "His father was the famous Howard Stark and his mother was Maria Stark. Do you know of this man?"

"You're looking at him." The man grinned. "Nice to know that everyone hears about me, even rural areas. I always thought I was known worldwide."

"Seems as if a bit of the reputation has gone to your head." She tensed as he took another step forward.

"It might be mistaken for arrogance." He stopped his approach. Perhaps he finally noticed her wariness. "I like to think of it as confidence, however."

"You seem pompous."

"And you don't seem sixteen."

She raised her eye brows, but said nothing. How much would this man know of her?

"So," he continued, "you know that I am Anthony Stark, also known as Iron Man. Do you have a name?"

"Obviously."

"What is it?"

"I do not give my name out to strangers, Mr. Stark," she responded.

"Did Conrad know of your name?"

The girl scoffed. "I never let that man know of anything. Why privilege a man trying to take over the world? Much like you Mr. Stark, you seem to have the same goals in mind."

His eyes narrowed. "Wait just a minute, sweets. I have been nothing but hospitable to you since I saved you a few days ago. I spent over two months tracking you down so I could get you out of there."

"How sweet that you came to my rescue."

"I put on the Iron Man suit so that I _can_ rescue people. I do it to better the world. I use my gifts to help the world. I have single handedly privatized world peace."

"Yes, peace is when you have to go busting into a building. Do not mistake heroism for ego building."

"I didn't kill any of those people. I let all of them live. My only goal was to get you out. When has your captor, Conrad, ever been so generous?"

She huffed. "Why did you want to save me, Anthony Stark? Will I be your research project too?"

Stark looked at her momentarily, confused. Something seemed to dawn in because he relaxed. Taking a breath he responded, "No, I saved you because you needed a helping hand."

"Oh, thank you for the assistance, kind sir," she snarked with a curtsy, narrowing her eyes. "You missed the mark on that one, however. I did not want to be saved. I wanted to be kill—"

"Wait, wait, wait. Did you just curtsy? Who curtsies? This isn't the eighteen hundreds. We're in the twenty first century."

The girl's eye brow rose curiously. "Does this matter in the scheme of everything going on right now?"

"Of course it matters. You just curtsied. All you're missing is a corset and a dress that puffs at the bottom. I think a parasol would complete the whole ensemble."

"I would have taken death over this," she sighed and turned away.

"You're lying."

"What?"

"You. Are. A. Liar."

Her eyes narrowed. "What gives you the right to say that?"

"Because," Stark stated, "First, you are in the presence of Tony Stark. That alone should cause you to be grateful to be alive. Second, you didn't want to die. You _wanted_ to escape. There was—and is—determination in your eyes. You wished he would have pulled the trigger on that shot gun—that's true—but when you looked at me, I saw hope in your eyes. I saw a fighter. Everyone deserves a chance to live. You wanted me to save you. _You_ gave me that vision of the island. I don't know how, but you did. I'm not an idiot. You wanted out."

Any comeback the girl may have been able to say died. She found herself speechless. After all, he was right.

The man walked a few steps closer. Stark was close enough to touch her, and looked like he might at one point. He seemed to decide against this action, speaking instead. "I don't know what you can or can't do for me. I don't really care. I don't know why Conrad held you captive for so long—I might want to know, however. I've heard that you are something unique but other than that, nothing. I don't want to hold you hostage here. However, I do want to keep you safe and I will keep you here with me because Conrad is hunting for you—I would rather he not get control of you again. In order to keep this from happening, effective as of, well, when you arrived here, you're under house arrest."

It took her a few moments to figure out what he had been saying. The explanation had been hard to follow and the term house arrest didn't process immediately. Her eyes widened as it dawned in on her. "That is not fair. You save me, and then chain me? You are just like Conrad!"

"Conrad saved you?"

"No, he said he bought me and then he chained me. You're like that, chaining me up."

"I'm not doing it to chain you. I'm doing it while the hell storm calms down and you can be re-civilized, since obviously you aren't."

"I'm not civilized?"

"You're about as civilized as a caveman—or cave woman in your case."

The girl again had to sort through what he was saying. "I… I am not uncivilized."

"You don't even understand half the things I'm saying. I'm making references and you don't get any of them."

With a glare, she looked away for a moment before responding bitterly. "I will not be kept here with you. I refuse to stay in containment. I've lived like that for too long." The girl then marched out of the room hunting for the front door.

"Where will you go? Who do you know?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm leaving."

"I hate to break it to you, but those fancy charms you're wearing on your wrists won't let you walk out that door. It also protects you if someone tries to abduct you," said Stark. "I've done a bit of research on the technology and I've set it so you can't leave. There is enough food here for you and your room is upstairs. It's the door on the right. You'll find some clothes in there."

She chose not to believe him as she wandered around looking for the door, determined to leave. She exited the room from the door on the right, and entered a hallway which brought her to a larger room. To her left at the end of the hall was a rock—or perhaps it was more thought to be a boulder. To the right sat another large bay window—again showcasing the ocean—and a large circular leather couch which covered most of the wall on the right along with half the window.

In front of the couch was a large round table with a glass top and what she could only describe as metal bars for legs. The floor in this room was made of wood, but there were small patches of stone scattered throughout it.

Walking into the room, she saw the exit to the left of the boulder. The entry way housed a very oddly colored painting on the wall to the right. The doors of this house were of glass, and it gave her a chilling feeling. You couldn't hide; everyone could see your every move. Turning, she looked at the rest of the downstairs before she left.

A fireplace sat in the far corner of the room as a sort of wall leading into a raised area which housed a bar and several stools as well as a piano. Glass bottles full of liquids lined the shelves behind the bar. In there was another large window, but this showed another angle with land and a few trees. On either side of the steps leading to this area stood two more boulders. _What odd decorations._

To the left of this, between the bar and the entryway was something that the girl couldn't help but gaze at. A circular staircase started on the right near the bar and went up. On the left side, there was another circular stairwell that descended. In the middle was a small waterfall. Water cascaded gently down a glass interior to small river rocks at the bottom. In the middle of the stones was a statue. The base was cement block. From that a metal curved piece came up from it—just about halfway up the water treatment—and it split into two pieces at the top. It was absolutely gorgeous.

Shaking her head, she turned back to the mission at hand. She wasn't here to admire things—the girl was here to leave. This might be the only chance at escaping this life of imprisonment and a pretty water treatment was not going to be her downfall. Turning left, she made for the glass door.

The girl did find it odd the stranger didn't pursue her when she departed. With a shrug, she turned the handle of the glass door and tried to walk out into the sun. As her foot made for the threshold, the cuffs shocked her. The girl looked at the glass door frame, wondering how that happened. Again, she tried forcing her way out, only to be shocked back into the house.

Slamming the front door shut, she stomped back into the other room with him and towards the balcony. The girl walked out onto the veranda, being met with a soft breeze and ocean mist. Looking over the edge, her eyes took in the sight of the waves below crashing against the rocks. That might not be a bad fall...

As she tried to climb over the edge, the cuffs shocked her again. She huffed as she stormed back inside.

"Done yet?" asked the man.

"If someone tries to abduct me, they'll kill me by shocking me to death."

"The voltage isn't high enough to kill you. It alerts the security system as well. The system will run a scan to see if there is an intruder or you're just being foolish. It's actually quite entertaining to watch actually. I have a few windows you could try."

The girl shot him a dark look then went to the other room where she found the stairs. Climbing them, she walked up to the second floor and entered the door on her right. It was a simple room with a large bed that stood before her and a bay window—which seemed to be common in this house—looking out on the valley below it. Both sides of the bed were adorned with nightstands and simple lamps. A desk and a chair sat on the left side of the room. On the right, sat a cozy chair where she could curl up.

Locking the door, she looked about this room again and decided it appeared to be a much better condition than what she had been in with Conrad. She wasn't naïve, however; looks could be deceiving.

*TiC*TiC*TiC*

When the girl left him alone, Tony stood quietly by the couch as his thoughts caught up with him. Losing all interest in the project being worked on, the ball dropped from his hand, fell to the floor and rolled away. That familiar demon was back and digging its talons into his chest. Now that the mission was essentially over, the devil had returned, worse than ever. It was no longer just his chest. Every limb felt its hate filled grip.

Stumbling, Tony made for the workshop. How he managed to make it down the stairs without falling, he had no idea, but he had barely made it in the door to his workshop before another wave washed over and his lungs burned for fresh air that was not available.

What was it about that girl that had brought Pepper to the forefront of his mind? Why had the attack come so suddenly? He struggled to focus on something else.

This girl and her temper tantrum hadn't driven Tony mad. Instead, he actually accepted the fact she was upset. He knew she would be. It was a new environment, a new place, and she had every reason not to trust him. That would take time, right?

Regaining breath, Tony lowered his head as he found himself sitting at the desk. There were very few times Stark had shed tears in his life, and he was determined not to do so now. There was no use crying over spilled milk. At the thought, his eyes flicked to the first arc reactor he had created. Pepper had framed it for him. She loved the sentiment and he loved her. She wasn't spilled milk, but the tears reigned themselves in.

"Sir, you have an incoming call."

Stark welcomed the call for once; it would be a distraction. "Who is it, Jarvis?"

"He wants to be referred to as an _old_ friend."

Tony laughed, and was glad this man had returned the call. There was one other person in his life besides Rhodes that he would consider close. This man wasn't a best friend like Rhodey, though; he was more like his brother—although Stark would never admit it. He wondered if his friend could possibly relate to the girl. "Patch him through, Jarvis."

The screen before Tony lit up with a video call. The man on the screen had brown eyes and light brown hair with the look of a concerned soldier. He wore a blue hoodie with a white shirt poking through and seemed to be about twenty-five. For being frozen for seventy years, he looked to be in peak shape. "Stark, I was surprised and glad to hear from you."

Tony smiled. "Who isn't surprise to hear from me, Steve?"

"How you holding up, Tony?"

"Fine as always."

"You're not _always_ doing fine. I don't see as many bottles this time, however."

Tony openly grimaced. It had been Steve he stopped speaking with several months back after they had a disagreement over his drinking. "Haven't had time."

"Haven't had time? What is it you're up too then? Your message sounded like you need help."

"Are you on a secure line?"

He saw Steve give a look. "You're asking me?"

"Good point. Jarvis, encrypt the call."

"Right away, sir," responded the AI.

After a moment or two, Steve spoke up. "You've been working on something this serious while being intoxicated, Stark?"

Tony waited for the green light from Jarvis before speaking. "Not intoxicated; I never get drunk. Anyway, do you remember that bombing a few months back?"

"In Panvel?"

"That's the one. Has S.H.I.E.L.D or the military briefed you on it?"

"I'm inactive right now, remember?"

Tony folded his arms. "I need you to be active on that case."

"Why's that, Tony?"

"You can't say a word—can't breathe a word, Star Spangled. Do you understand?"

"Top Secret?"

"Extremely."

"You have my word, Tony. What's going on?"

Stark paused as he deliberated how best to start. "Rhodes came to me about that bombing, only it wasn't a bombing."

"The government issued a statement saying it was a car bomb."

"No, it was a missile. Rhodey wanted me to look into it and I did. I went to the location the missile was launched and found an underground facility. It's run by a man known only as Conrad." Tony brought up a picture of Conrad and the girl.

"Who's he got with him?"

"This girl he bought from somewhere. She's very valuable to him." Stark accessed the clip received of Conrad and the voice he never deciphered.

When the video was over, Steve spoke. "What is the power source?"

Tony shook his head. "I have no idea."

"Is it the girl?"

"Could be. I just don't know enough about her."

"Where is Conrad now? Can we get the girl out safely and hand her over to the government?"

Stark hesitated. "Old Glory, remember how I said this is confidential and no one should know?" Rogers merely peered back at Tony with a slightly raised brow. "I have her."

"You captured her from Conrad?"

Tony nodded.

"Why haven't you handed her over to Lt. Colonel Rhodes?"

"It's not that easy. She doesn't even trust me and I saved her. I can't hand her over to Rhodey. It won't go well. I know that if they get their hands on her they'll treat her just like Conrad treated her."

"How do you know that?"

"You know how faulty these pricks can be."

"I can't go against the military."

"Capcicle, I'm asking you to help me. Help this girl. She doesn't understand anything. It's like you when they defrosted you. She's in an environment she doesn't understand; she's a wild animal unsure of its relocated home."

Steve sighed. "What are you asking me to do, Tony?"

"I need to find out what they know. Find out what S.H.I.E.L.D and the government know. I want all their dirty secrets without them knowing I'm searching. If they get wind of me, they'll come looking. That's why I'm asking you. I need an insider they trust to reveal their secrets to."

"Why are you helping this girl? You know nothing about her."

Tony paused. "It's… It's something Pepper would want."

Rogers looked at him. "I'll do what I can."

Tony was quiet for a bit before he looked at the Captain. "Thanks, Steve."


	4. Break the Code

**I own nothing that you recognize, although I wish I did!**

* * *

"_Listen to the mustn'ts, child.__  
__Listen to the don'ts._  
_Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts._  
_Listen to the never haves,_  
_then listen close to me..._  
_Anything can happen, child._  
_Anything can be."  
__―__Shel Silverstein____  
_

It was a week before Tony saw the girl again. She hadn't left the room to his knowledge, and Jarvis had stated she locked herself inside except when getting slices of bread—that would explain why he could only make a roast beef sandwich without the sandwich. Beef on a plate was only so appetizing. Walking to his room one night, he stopped when the door to the girl's room opened. His eyes widened as she paused to look at him. Tony took the opportunity to speak.

"So you are still alive. That's good news." When she didn't reply, he continued. "Well, you are allowed anywhere in this house, except the basement. That is off limits to you."

Stark wasn't surprised when she slammed the door in his face. In his mind, this was much like breaking a horse. Step one was to catch the horse; step two was getting it to do what it was told. Check and check—or so he assumed. Step three was getting it to respond to you. He had a feeling it wasn't going to be easy. The next two weeks confirmed that assumption.

When she actually surfaced for food, she would only grab a few slices of bread—which he did replace often for her—and then return with a slam to her room.

Tony wasn't thrilled that she wouldn't speak to him or venture outside. He could have barged in the room, but obviously his last couple talks with her hadn't gone well, so that probably wouldn't go much better. Besides, this whole change had to be a culture shock for her. He had to assume however that she would get tired of being alone and talk to him. That was step three, response, was it not?

The third month into this tiresome routine, Tony made a boxed dinner of chicken and rice. While trying not to set the smoke detector off, his thoughts wandered again towards the girl.

She must be tired of bread slices by this point; he was tired of buying loaves of sliced bread for her—and not being able to make a sandwich when he wanted. Maybe she would cheer up if she had some actual food. Tony knew he was less dashing when he hadn't eaten—like when he hadn't had said sandwich.

Bringing a plate and some water up to her room, he knocked softly on the door. Tony was met with silence, which he had assumed would happen. Setting the food and water on the floor, he retired to the kitchen to eat. Upon going to bed that night, the plate was no longer in front of her door.

In the morning, he rose and made breakfast. Tony noticed that the plate was clean and put back in the cupboard. Maybe the girl did have a soul; perhaps she was more civilized then he had assumed. If cooking for her worked, it meant that breaking her like a horse wasn't the answer. Come to think of it, Conrad had tried that attempt and it didn't work. Maybe it was more like getting an abused dog to trust you.

Tony settled for his new tactic and set to work making toast and frozen sausage. Hopefully he wouldn't set the kitchen on fire… this time. Maybe Dummy should be brought up here. The robot at least knew how to hold and spray the fire extinguisher.

Tony decided against it as memories of the past times crossed his mind. Dummy tended to use the extinguisher without there being an actual fire. The robot didn't always realize what was expected of him. When the flashbacks came, so did a nasty taste in his mouth—that wouldn't go well with breakfast. The robot probably needed a lobotomy. Tony decided to take his chances cooking by himself.

When the food was done—miraculously without incident—he walked to her room, set the plate on the floor, knocked and left. He was pleased to find that she ate that meal as well. With the semi-success of the meals being eaten, he began a new routine of "cooking" and giving her food.

There was a possibility that eventually _this_ plan would pay off. If anything, the girl was eating better than she was used to. She had to come around eventually, right? Food meant better attitude in his mind. He had even researched it. Plus the Snickers commercials stated it, so it had to be true, right?

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Going into month four, the girl threw him for a spin.

Tony brought her dinner one night as usual. When he knocked however, she opened the door. He was awe-struck for a moment, staring at her without a word, which was odd since this is what he was going for. The shock of finally seeing this elusive girl seemed to clamp his mouth shut, but he made sure to look her over. Was she healthy?

Heavy bags lined the under part her eyes. He remembered noticing that before, but they were still there. The girl still looked like skin and bones, but he saw her slowly starting to fill out. Picking up the plate and glass off the floor, he handed it to her.

Barely nodding her head, she quickly shut the door.

Stark walked downstairs to where his own meal sat. Sitting down at the counter, he munched on his salad. This had to be some sort of progress. She actually answered the door—not that he was going to get his hopes up quite yet, because she still wasn't speaking. He hoped this was a turning point for both of them. By this point, he was interested to know about her.

As the days passed, the girl opened the door to him at each meal time, acknowledging him with a slight nod. As weeks passed she began saying thank you. It was awkward, but he slowly began to adjust to this new way of life.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Right before month five, Tony walked downstairs after giving her food to eat his own meal. He had just settled down at the counter when he felt like he was being watched. Turning, he saw brown eyes looking at him cautiously. Her eyes reminded him of a doe's, bashful and timid. In her hands, she held the plate he had just given her.

Tony slowly moved the stool next to him, offering her a seat. Cautiously, she seated herself next to him. The girl's plate hit the counter with a soft tap. Moving back to his plate, he kept his movements slow, trying to make her feel comfortable. He observed that she followed his lead.

"Evening," he said. His eyes caught her ever-so-slight nod in acknowledgment. _That's better than nothing, right?_ Who didn't want to talk to Tony Stark though? Every girl he had come across had swooned at just a look, well, except Pep—he couldn't think that way.

The silence that lapsed between them wasn't horrible. It was actually comforting to have another person in the house; it had been so long. Tony could deal with this. This silence was actually better than eating alone and only having Jarvis to occasionally talk to—not that he didn't enjoy Jarvis. Did he actually want someone to be around again?

When the girl had finished, she rose and went to the sink to wash her plate. Turning to him after, her brown eyes looked at his empty plate and then at him. Tony thought of the action as something similar a dog did when they wanted something. He pushed his empty plate to her and she washed his as well. This small interaction started nightly dinners together—in silence.

*TiC*TiC*TiC*

In month five, Tony walked downstairs one morning to find the girl making pancakes. She plated some up for the both of them. With a glass of milk, the girl slid his to one side of the counter while she remained across from him on the other side of the island. The brown haired teen seemed a bit wary and he thought she might sprint up to her room at any moment.

Tony sat down at the counter. This was new as well. The girl had yet to cook a meal so what brought upon this change? Could she even cook? Eying his food warily, he grabbed the fork and began poking at his pancakes. Everything smelled alright. She began eating her pancakes while watching him; the way she watched reminded him again of an animal. She wasn't necessarily going to attack him, but she would flee at the first scent of danger.

"If I die eating this, you're stuck in this house for life." She gave him an odd look. Maybe she didn't understand what he was saying; that was possible.

Putting a fork full in his mouth, he slowly chewed. If Stark was about to die, he was going to try and enjoy this last meal. Swallowing the bite, he looked down at the plate. The pancakes were delicious. If she was contained for so long, how did she know how to cook?

Stark cleared his throat. "You're almost as good of a cook as I am." The girl shrugged in reply. "You know how to cook then?"

This was answered with another shrug. Maybe she just didn't want to talk to him. _No, wait, who wouldn't want to talk to Tony Stark? _

He continued on, maybe he could force her to reply. "It's interesting, you were so young when they took you and here you are cooking."

The girl didn't reply to this either, but munched on her food. This was going to be a challenge he accepted. He was going to get her to talk. Looking up at her, he noticed the circles under her eyes, still. "Did you sleep?"

She nodded.

He stifled a sigh. This challenge might be a bit more difficult than he was accustomed to at this time. Maybe the girl suddenly couldn't speak English anymore. Stark would have to look into speaking lost languages. Maybe that was the trick.

When Tony finished his plate, he walked to the sink to wash it off. This caused her to turn and watch him while finishing her pancakes. The girl's reaction was once again animalistic. He also noticed the slightest tense in her as if she wanted to flee. After all this time, she was still scared. Did he expect her not to be?

Stark was surprised when she began to try her hand at cooking. Most mornings, she had breakfast ready for him. At night, while the girl had attempted dinner several times, he often found himself cooking it. He didn't mind—other than the fact he worried he might burn the kitchen down—and she seemed to be willing to try to work with him. In month six, Stark decided to switch things up for his nameless guest.

After finishing breakfast one morning, he moved back toward the stairs. "I'm going into work. I have a few things at the office I have to take care of. Please don't burn the house down while I'm gone."

After showering, he stood in his closet buttoning the last few buttons on his dress shirt; his mind began to wander. It was odd to be getting dressed like this again—surreal almost. It had been a long time since he dressed up, and longer still since Stark actually ran his company.

"You look good, Tony."

The once adored man froze. That voice was one he would never forget.

"I'm glad you're going into work. It's about time."

His fingers lingered on the last button as he found his voice. "The last time we spoke, you said you weren't coming back."

"People change their minds."

"You wouldn't accept my apology, Pepper. You said it wasn't enough." Tony turned to find himself alone in the closet. These wraiths haunted his waking moments, but had been missing since he donned his suit a few months ago.

Once dressed, he walked back downstairs and to the kitchen. That event was not going to shake him. He was Tony Stark after all: billionaire, genius, entrepreneur, loved by many, the list was endless. If that moment in the closet was allowed to spark and burn, the man of iron was never going to leave the house again. Ripping himself from the grips of the specters, he noticed the kitchen was spotless; clean like the visitor had never been there. Was she a ghost as well?

Trying not to shake, Tony— now half-terrified—walked back towards the stairs. The girl was real. Conrad had held her, but had Tony ever saved her? He turned toward the descending set of steps which led to his workshop and garage. Relief washed over him as brown eyes leaned next to the stairs, watching him.

"You're leaving me alone in the house?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah. That's why I asked you not to burn it down. I hope you won't try to escape either," he replied, as his body unwound from the momentary melt down. In this moment she seemed real enough and his worries washed away. "It won't be as fun if I can't watch you electrocute yourself."

"You're not confining me in any room or trying to put me to sleep?"

Tony raised an eye brow. "Haven't done it yet, have I?" When she kept a distrustful look with no reply, he went on. "Why would I put you out? I don't think you're a savage beast. Are you a savage beast?" Tony shook his head. "You haven't tried to do anything crazy that I'm aware of. You may be under house arrest but I'm not limiting you to a room. I am still saying that you can't go down the stairs here, but the rest of the house is free reign."

Her brow rose—confusion spreading across her face—as she studied him. Tony realized this was probably more freedom then she had ever had. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what they did to her in Conrad's prison.

"I have a television in the living room on the wall above the fire place. Jarvis will help you with anything you want," he informed.

"Who's Jarvis?" she asked, eying his house vigilantly.

"Jarvis is pretty much the house," responded Tony. "It's the computer-"

"The what? Com... Cop… Cam…"

"Computer. It's… It's a device that accepts, processes, stores, and outputs data at high speeds according to instructions that have been programmed."

Her mouth gaped for a moment. "The… Is that English?"

"It is. I told you, you have a lot to learn. There is also a library upstairs full of books. They may help you to learn about this age and explain a few things you don't understand. You do know how to read, right?"

The girl nodded, looking him up and down. He couldn't get a read on her. Was she playing a game? What was she truly like? Did she truly exist in his house right now? She had to—he was talking to her. But then again he talked to other wraiths.

"Anyway, Jarvis is everywhere. He can help with certain—most—things; technology-based, machine-based, things in particular. He's also great to talk to—some days anyway."

She became skittish. She looked around like she expected Jarvis to appear instantaneously from a wall. "Does he watch me?"

Tony chuckled. "He doesn't exactly keep tabs on people. He can't exactly _see_ either. He won't hurt you. Jarvis?"

"Yes sir," responded the A.I.

The girl startled and looked for the source.

"Jarvis, this is our guest as you know. She doesn't exactly have a name—unless you've changed your mind about the name?" She shook her head. "Didn't think so. Anyway Jarvis, I want you to help her with anything she might need today while I'm gone," said Tony.

"As you wish, sir. I will be happy to oblige."

"So, Jarvis'll take good care of you." Tony turned to leave.

"Wait!" she said, becoming a bit more animated. "What's a… a…" Her brow furrowed. "A television….?"

Tony couldn't help but smile a bit. "You don't know what a television is?"

The girl shook her head.

"Of course not; you haven't even heard of a computer—just like Steve when I first met him." He smiled.

The girl's head turned to the side.

"A television is a device that allows you to watch… moving pictures. Jarvis will explain everything to you. When I get home, I'll answer any of your questions he can't explain. I highly suggest you start reading—that'll help a lot," Tony replied. With another half-uncertain smile to her, he descended the steps.

*TiC*TiC*TiC*

Upon returning home that evening, he entered the kitchen-living room to find the girl on the couch playing the game console. On the coffee table sat several piles of books. Had she read all of those? _There's no way someone could read all those in one day._

A small smile crossed his face, however, as he watched her fingers press buttons on the remote—a concentrated look on her face. She was intently shooting things. _Call of Duty_ seemed to fit her well. The girl laid in wait for people to come to her—_if she was online she'd be hated for camping._ He watched for several minutes as she laid traps across the map. With her focus on the game, he wasn't sure she knew he was home. He slowly approached his house guest.

The girl paused the game and looked up. _Apparently, she did notice._ A tired look was seen etched across her face, but those brown eyes seemed alert. She also didn't miss the fact he held a bag which contained food one hand and drinks in the other.

Tony took a spot on the other side of the couch. Setting down the food and drinks, he looked at her. "I got a coke. I don't know if you like coke, but I figured I'd start there. I also got you a few cheese burgers, fries and also some chicken nuggets." Opening the bag, he drew two cheese burgers. Stark tossed one to her, and started eating the other.

She cautiously looked over the burger and unwrapped it. "What is this?"

"Food," Tony replied, munching his food. He then turned the television to the nightly news. "Do you really not understand a lot? I thought you were reading today."

"I did read. Your books are interesting."

"So then you should be able to understand a lot more than when I left, right? More civilized and understanding?"

With a look of contempt, she began chewing on her burger. Her mood seemed to change drastically as food filled a growling stomach. Tony assumed she needed to eat more—being that skinny could not be healthy. After she wolfed down some chicken nuggets and another burger, she sat back against the couch.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," she said softly, rising from the couch.

"That's what I'm here for, Keeva," he responded, not looking up from the television.

"What did you call me?"

"Mute," he said to Jarvis, and turned to her. "Well, I don't know your name and I know I won't get it from you, so I'm calling you Keeva."

"Where'd you get that?"

Tony shrugged. "It just came to me."

His statement was anything but the truth. Tony had been working when his thoughts strayed towards the girl. He had hoped she would have given him her name by now, but he wasn't that lucky. To amend this problem, he contemplated different names he could call her. Brittany and Jennifer were too normal for her, while Jasmine and Belle were too fairytale. However, he heard Pepper's voice gently in his ear saying he should call her Keeva.

While she stifled a yawn, he saw her roll her eyes with what might be a slight smile playing on her lips. Maybe he imagined the smile. "If that is what you wish to call me. It's better than what Conrad used to call me. I never liked the name Diamond much. I was his "Diamond in the rough" as he used to say." She sighed. "Good night, Mr. Stark."

Stark watched as his house guest retired to her room for the night. So, she was Conrad's 'Diamond in the rough'. Hadn't Diamond been the name of a project Conrad was working on? Making his way down to the workshop, he walked to the computer and brought up the files he obtained from Conrad.

Tony had looked over the dossier months ago, but had seen nothing substantial at the time—they hadn't seemed to make any sense. The files had seemed to be in code talking about some unsaid power source. With this new information that Conrad had labeled her Diamond, however, maybe his questions would be answered.

"Jarvis, I need you to look for things of importance that I'm not seeing. She brought up Conrad called her the 'Diamond in the rough.' I want to know why. It has to have something to do with this file."

"Right away, sir."

Jarvis filtered through the information as Tony combed back over the dossier. For hours, he sat with Jarvis looking over the documents. The files read that the diamond was something far beyond valuable. What 'diamond' truly was however, he couldn't find anywhere.

"Sir, I thought this might be of importance," Jarvis said bringing up a section of files allowing Tony to read over it.

"_Project Diamond had been underway for many years now. Since its conception in 1987, the nine realms have been both revered and terrified by the possible power that may be contained within. Unknown to most of the worlds at this time, we are housing what we believe it to be on the world known as Earth. This is in an attempt to keep it hidden until its full potential can be assessed. Project Diamond is said to hold enough raw power to open portals to other worlds and stop gods. This makes it both an asset and an issue for the nine dimensions. What may be considered as all the power in the universe, contained in one place, may be the worst and best thing to ever happen._

"_At this time we believe there to be a key to opening the full clout of its potential. We believe that we have found the key and have it housed within our facility. The key is yet to be fully assessed as it cannot be controlled by any mere substance or being. Project Diamond, in its entirety, will be watched and tested until we can access this power._"

"Well, isn't this interesting…" Tony said. "Where do I start? What are the nine realms? Norse?"

"Sir, the nine realms do refer to the Norse mythology. There are actually eleven according to all records."

"This report would be stating they exist. That would mean I'd have to think outside of all norms."

"It would appear to be that way."

"That's ludicrous at best, though. About this girl now, if this report is anything about our lovely guest upstairs, then what is her significance? Does she create the power? Does she know where to find it? Is she it? Was she just someone Conrad kept around?" Tony paused. "Jarvis, call Old Glory."

"Sir, he is certain to be asleep. It is very late in New York."

"I don't Jarvis. It's urgent."

"As you wish, sir."

Tony rubbed his face as he waited. A few minutes passed before the screen lit up with the tired looking man.

"Seriously, Stark? It's three in the morning here."

"Wing Tips, I had to get a hold of you. I found some information on the girl."

Steve yawned. "What is it?"

Tony sorted the main files he found so far into a folder. "What have you found out?"

Stark knew Rogers hadn't gotten back into the field soldier part—still being a bit skittish about it. However, S.H.I.E.L.D _had_ welcomed him back as a consultant until he felt more comfortable. Stark also knew Steve had expressed concerns about the agencies keeping information from him.

"Rumor is spreading like wildfire over what this girl can and can't do," replied Steve. "We don't know how, but more countries are getting wind and starting the hunt. Conrad knows you took her. He isn't ready to attack yet. He wants proof that you have her—proof he cannot obtain because you've kept her under wraps."

"Well, Jarvis is the best security system out there. And I'll send you a few things I found tonight." Tony had recently sent Steve a new computer that only the soldier would have access too. It was for that reason alone, that he felt safe sending Rogers the file on the girl. "So One-Eye hasn't said anything?"

"Haven't seen Fury much. He's been busy with some other project."

Stark sat up, alert. "What does Eye Patch have that's more interesting than this girl?"

"He has intelligence working on this. I'm in that team. He's just busy taking care of more pressing issues."

"And I'd be interested to know what's more pressing than this. Fury doesn't just ignore something like this unless he's invested in something greater."

"Leave it alone, Stark. You have the girl to worry about for the moment. How is she by the way?"

"Keeva actually spoke to me earlier. I left her alone to go to work today."

"Keeva?"

"That's what I'm calling her."

"I see. Well, wow, you returned to work. Good job, Tony."

"Funny, Steve. Anyway, she told me Conrad always called her Diamond, which is talked about in the files I just sent you."

"In the morning, I'll look over them then. Anything else?" Steve yawned.

"I'm guessing you want me to let you sleep."

"You don't really have a choice in the matter, Stark. Regardless, I'm going to sleep in a bit anyway."

"Sleep is for the weak," Tony cracked. "Anyway, thanks again, Shield Slinger. I'll talk to you soon."

"Night, Tony."

Clicking off the video, Stark browsed the dossier again. It was late when he finally decided he was finished looking over everything.

Yawning, he made his way back upstairs in search of the round object he had been tinkering with when the girl first woke. Stark searched through the ground level before making his way up to the second floor.

Sure, the sun might be up in a few hours—meaning he had to work—but he hadn't seen his toy for a few days—months? He hadn't lost it—Tony Stark didn't lose things. He just let them go astray. For a while. A long while. Honestly, sometimes certain toys went incognito for longer than others.

Tony didn't disturb the girl's room in his search. He knew she always locked herself up in there at night—and it wouldn't be in there anyway. Walking to the guest bath, he wondered if it had been left in there—not knowing why he would use the guest bathroom—and opened the door. Stark looked up to hear the shower running. That was odd for this time of night, wasn't it? The whole shower was colored in except for where the person's head was. There, he saw a strange woman he had never met.

"Who are you?" he asked; eyes wide. "Not that I'd think I'd mind…"

The woman startled and turned. "Get out!"

Tony stiffened at the familiar voice—it sounded like Keeva. "Wait, aren't you the stranger in _my_ shower? Is your name on the title to the house? Did you design this beautiful masterpiece? Last I checked, all that was me. So why would I leave if this is my house?"

He watched as the woman looked across at a mirror. She covered her mouth and her eyes widened in shock. The woman turned towards him.

"Um… Wait," she said and held up her hand cuffs. "Let me wash off, Mr. Stark, and I'll come out and talk to you."

His eyes widened in disbelief, and he tried not to glance down at the shadow in the glass. "Be quick about it."

He then exited the room, shutting the door behind him.


	5. Whose House Is This?

**Hello!**

**I don't own anyone except my OC. I try to play nice with others, unlike Tony. R&R! Have an awesome day!**

_When we are no longer able to change a situation,__  
__we are challenged to change ourselves.  
__-Victor Frankl____  
_

Tony had been patient with the girl for several long months. He had accepted her silence and evasive personality—understanding that she needed to feel safe after what she had gone through. However, with this latest event, all patience fled into oblivion as five minutes seemed like five years. His foot tapped against the floor as he awaited the click of the door.

When Keeva—or who he assumed to be the girl—finally opened the door she was dressed in sweats, hair up in a towel. He observed, however, the same brown eyes and same facial structure Keeva had. She was taller and more grown up, appearing to be in her early twenties now.

"Explain yourself and why you now look legal before I call the cops, and I really don't want to call the cops. That would be such a shame, a really regrettable shame," said Tony, looking her up and down. She wasn't a bad look girl—woman—being? How did this happen? Had he had too much to drink? Were the ghosts back?

"I can sort of change… appearance… like this…" She bit her lip, and shifted uncomfortably. "I haven't been able to do that in a while. I sort of froze myself in a younger state, not that I mature quickly anyways, but I had to keep Conrad at bay as much as I could."

"I brought you into my house—_trusted_ you in my house—and you couldn't have shared this with me?"

"Why would I share something with a person I don't trust?"

"Why wouldn't you? Last I checked you were in my house." He looked around. "Yep, this is my place. So why wouldn't you tell me this crucial piece of information? And if I hadn't walked in the bathroom to find the Star Wars ball, would I ever have known you were capable of that?"

"Star Wars ball?"

"You're getting off subject," said Tony, folding his arms. "You lied."

"I kept a secret," she shot back. "It's not like you don't. Gee, I wonder what's on the bottom floor I'm not allowed to go to."

"I'm sorry, do you own this house? Because somewhere in this whole thing you seem to think you own _this_ place, _Tony Stark's_ place. _I'm_ Tony Stark. That makes it _my_ place. What part of '_you are the guest'_ don't you understand? I have a right to know these things. You are in _my_ house. You heard that this time right? _My_ house, not yours. You should be respectful."

She rolled her eyes and huffed. "Not by choice am I here."

"Get off your high horse, little girl, before I knock your ass off."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "I'm not a little girl."

"Oh that's right. You can _change_ appearance," he growled. "Let me ask you this. Do you think if I put up a felt board with those little figures, maybe Jesus and some of his groupies—the disciples," Tony motioned with his hands, "you would understand what I'm saying a bit more? _Stop_ the attitude. I saved you. You're staying for free in _my_ house—once again, just for your benefit, _mine_. I treat you with respect—"

"Barging into a bathroom while someone is showering is not respectful," she cut in.

Tony clenched his teeth, trying to keep his temper level, as his arms crossed again. "Alright, we'll keep this simple. You're missing the point, sweets. You missed the train; you're not understanding what I'm saying. I have done nothing but shown you respect since you've gotten here and all you've done is lie to me. You won't even tell me your real name. In fact, most of the time, you're a mute. This is the first time you've had a conversation with me that has lasted longer than a few minutes. You're being utterly rude and ridiculous. You and I know that you were in the wrong. Stop acting like a three year old about it."

She looked taken back and remained silent in the hallway. Her brown eyes avoided his as she studied the wooden floor.

"Once again, we're back to the silent game," he said with a sigh. Without another word he turned and went to his room for the night.

When he came down the next morning, breakfast was on the table—which was new for him—and the kitchen was spotless. He saw Keeva—or who he assumed was the girl—sitting at the table, with one leg under her and her knee up to her chin, still looking the same as last night. The only difference was her brown hair went from a towel into the now sported messy bun. She wouldn't look at him. Cautiously, he walked to the table and took a seat at the head—next to her.

The spread before him was amazing: scrambled eggs, toast, potatoes with cheese, fruit, muffins, coffee and cream, orange juice, and water. Who was going to eat all this food? All of the provisions were steaming hot still, which partly confused him since the kitchen was immaculate. The paper also sat on the table by his seat. He poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed some food that the table had to offer.

Tony didn't eat, however. Instead, he turned to look at Keeva. "You poisoned the food, didn't you? If I die, you'll be stuck in this house forever."

She shook her head but refused to look at him, biting her bottom lip before saying anything. After she took some food for herself, she spoke. "I remember your warning. The meal is fine. I will eat first if that pleases you, sir."

Her change in attitude was strange. A brow rose. "What's wrong with you? What game are you playing?"

"None, sir," she stated keeping her head down. The girl—_woman-being_—looked embarrassed, as if her pride had been crushed and her spirit along with it.

Tony took a sip of his coffee and repeated himself slowly, "What game are you playing at?"

The table was apparently extremely interesting to her, but brown eyes managed to slowly bring her irises up to meet his. "I… I was… in the wrong last night, Mr. Stark. I… I'm really sorry."

Tony put down his coffee cup. "You're going to tell me the truth, then kill me, aren't you?"

"You like conspiracy theories, don't you?" she snarked. As quickly as Keeva had spouted off, she returned to the docile, melancholy state. "No, sir. Nothing but the truth."

"Please don't call me 'sir'. It sounds narcissistic. Your majesty is a lot better," he said. Picking up his coffee again, he sipped at it. Keeva looked at him with conflict staining her brown eyes. Tony realized she was unsure of him—which made sense seeing the things Conrad put her through. It didn't make it any easier though, because she was just as stubborn as him. Sighing, he spoke. "You don't have to tell me everything. I already know I'm better off becoming a fish than learning your name." Again he seemed to imagine the hints of a smile. "Things like the fact you can change your appearance are things I would like to—no, _need_ to know. I also need to know your type and if you have had previous boyfriends—maybe girlfriends, I can work with that. That might actually be fun."

Conflict turned to confusion as her brow wrinkled. "I—What?"

"Apparently, you don't know good humor," Tony said, laughing softly. "Look, all I need to know is what can you do."

Worry was the next emotion to spread through her eyes, which—by her tightly pressed lips—she was apparently struggling to fight off. The fact she trusted no one, became more apparent to him with each passing moment. He watched as she contemplated how to proceed from here.

Finally, she swallowed roughly and whispered, "I can change appearance."

"Glad to know," Stark said starting on the toast. "I'll keep that in mind."

Keeva picked at her muffin. "I sort of think that's it."

"I think you're 'sort of' lying," he replied, pulling the paper from the table. This approach would need to be simple and non-threatening. Taking another sip of coffee, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. "I've heard you're smarter than me."

She munched on the muffin and shrugged dismissively. "I've been held captive for a few years."

"I heard it's more than seven."

Keeva shrugged again. "You're just a wealth of information, aren't you?"

"Usually—or I try to be. How old are you actually?"

She winced at the subject. Tony realized he was not going to be getting that one out of her today. "I wish not to tell you everything."

Stark brought the news paper down a bit and looked at her. "Are you a hardened criminal? Are you planning to kill me or steal from me?"

"I'm not a criminal. As for the killing… Not at this point, maybe a slight maim or something exciting. I also won't steal from you. I find nothing in this house that is worth my time."

"Don't like my decorating?"

"Kind of bland."

"Excuse me for not consulting you first. Next time, I want to redecorate I'll ask your opinion."

"It looks like you haven't redecorated in a few years. Or moved things…"

"I don't need your opinion. It's _my_ house," said Tony as he brought his paper back up and munching on a piece of crispy bacon.

"So you're allowed to ask me whatever you want, but as soon as I make a statement that you don't like, we're finished."

Tony nodded and continued reading the newspaper.

"We're never going to get anywhere if you won't tell me anything."

Putting down the paper, he finished his breakfast. Tony then rose from the table. "How ironic, coming for you. Don't tell me how to live when you're just as closed off as I am. I bid you a good day and I will see you later."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

After Stark left, she cleaned the breakfast table then stormed around aimlessly. The girl wasn't just angry, she was furious. Her mind began listing all the wrongs he had done to her.

He had locked her in his house with nowhere to go. If she tried to leave, she was electrocuted. He had barged in on her in the bathroom last night. She had made that breakfast to apologize even though he had been rude. He wouldn't tell her anything about his life and then said she was a closed book. _How infuriating!_

Keeva found herself deep cleaning the entire house and moving around the furniture. When she moved the couch, she found the round object that Stark had been tinkering with when she first awoke. Studying it momentarily, she placed it in her jacket pocket, then proceeded back to slamming things around.

"Are you okay, Miss?" Jarvis asked after some time.

She assumed he had waited so long to speak in order to give her time to calm down. _What sort of non-human does that? _"No, I'm not okay, Jarvis." If she hadn't been so mad, she would have been more curious about having an actual conversation with the house. "This is so stupid. Does that man think he's like God's gift to the world?"

"I assume you speak of Mr. Stark? He does have a bit of an arrogant side to him, but he is looking out for your best interests, I assure you."

"You seem to think that I'm mad about being locked up here."

"I know that you are angry due to his treatment of you."

"So the computer has sense," she said, rolling her eyes and falling onto the couch with a sigh, clutching a bottle of window cleaner in her hand.

"I did not say I sided with you, Miss."

"What?"

"I did not state that it was you I sided with."

"But you have to side with me. He's so wrong there's no way he's right." Keeva slammed the cleaning bottle on the coffee table. "Oh, that's right. _You_ were created by him. _You're_ not going to side with me no matter what, foolish of me to ask."

Her attention was drawn to the wall as it lowered, revealing the television screen. A video replayed her temper tantrum from the first night when she found she couldn't leave, moved onto the slamming of the doors which led into her attitude last night and her rage this morning. The footage left nothing out. Everything was there, attitude and all.

Cringing, she got up and walked to her room, shutting the door behind her.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony walked in the house that night to find it dark, silent, and smelling as if the maid had been there. _It's not the maid's day._ What had the girl done? Was he going to be killed? Was she waiting for him in the shadows with a knife? He made his way to the kitchen and froze when he looked at the state of everything. It was moved and—to him—in disarray. Bewildered, he walked to the coffee table and grabbed the bottle of Windex.

"That damn bitch… Jarvis? Jarvis!" Tony snapped as soon as he found his voice. "Jarvis! Wake up!"

"Sir?"

"Where have you been? I've been calling you for five minutes," growled Tony as he replaced the Windex, slamming the cupboard door shut.

"Sorry, sir. What may I help you with?"

"What the hell happened here?" Tony began moving his furniture back to their original places.

"She decided to rearrange your house today while she was angry," responded Jarvis.

"Oh, she was angry! If you hadn't been sleeping, you would have stopped this," Tony huffed as he moved the couch back to the original place. "Who does she think she is? I thought we went over this. This is not her house! She's in for a rude awakening." He set to work fixing the rest of the furniture.

"Sir, may I suggest that you do not talk to her in your anger?"

"I don't really care about her feelings, Jarvis."

"It may get you nowhere to talk to her with this temper. I doubt she will listen."

"She doesn't listen anyway." Tony finished putting the living room back. He sighed. "In the morning then. I'll let her have one more peaceful night. I'm just that nice."

Without a second's hesitation, Stark treated to his workshop—the only place of solace in the house. It was in there however, all he did was gaze at the arc reactor.

"You shouldn't be mad at her. You should at least try to see it from her perspective."

"She shouldn't touch my stuff, Pepper," growled Tony.

"Change can be good, Tony."

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

There was a soft sigh. "It's a necessary part of life. Like second chances."

"Chances," he scoffed. "Why did we have to change? Why did you leave? That was never in my plans."

"This is funny coming from you since you're always inventing something new to change the world. And you can't plan anything out, Tony. Life doesn't work that way. Just like you can't be mad at Keeva for moving a couch."

"What would you know? You're not here," he snapped, turning towards the voice and finding nothing. He sighed. "Like I said, you're not here."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The next morning, Tony pounded on Keeva's door—well before the run rose. He was exhausted; having tossed and turned the entire night—after he had actually retired to his room— plotting how to handle the Keeva situation. His house had been terrorized as far as he was concerned. Who did this girl think she was?

"If you don't open this damn door, I will break it down," he growled, pounding harder on the door. The stairwell creaked ever so slightly. He stopped mid strike to look over. Two brown eyes were peeking just above the edge, watching him curiously. Stark approached her. "What did you think you were doing? This is my house! Did I not make that clear? I didn't ask you to rearrange it. You are a guest here. This isn't your personal home!"

He watched as she pulled a chunk of hair over her shoulder and played with it.

"Of course you're not going to answer me. I forgot; you do what you want, honey badger. You enjoy playing this stupid silent game like a five year old. I don't know what else to do with you. I'm done. You refuse to respond to anything I say or do. You would rather work on your own schedule and beat to your own damn drum. I'm done with this childish behavior."

Stark stormed down the stairs and to the fridge while his thoughts ran away. If he was done with her, what would he do with her? Where would he put her? Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best thought out sentence or train of thought, but he was mad. What was he supposed to do?

In the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of orange juice and grabbed a yogurt from the fridge. After procuring a spoon, he started on the yogurt. Turning, Tony found her sitting at the counter across from him playing with that strand of hair. He was a bit surprised to see how quickly and silently she had just appeared there. _Like a ghost._ Instead speaking however, Stark took another bite of yogurt.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You have opened up your home to me and saved my life. In return, I've been nothing but rude and immature." She looked up at him. "I haven't been the friendliest guest and I'm sure I've been quite a pain for you. I am truly sorry."

Tony studied her for a few moments before taking the spoon out of his mouth. "Are you playing another game?"

"No game, it's the truth, Mr. Stark. I kind of… I was kind of shown my behavior. I'm sorry."

Stark ate another bite and looked away. She was actually honest; he could hear it in the soft change of her voice. That was a huge step for her. Maybe he was a bit harsh toward her. "I'm… you know… for… Sort of being hard on you."

Keeva shrugged. "It's not like you didn't have a reason."

"It was still… not totally right of me—even though you may have deserved every moment of it. I would like to work from here. Perhaps we can start fresh."

She nodded. "That would be a nice thing to do."

"I'm Tony Stark. I run Stark Industries. I am twenty-six years old," he said.

"You can call me…" She trailed off, as her brow furrowed momentarily before continuing. "Well, you call me Keeva, so let's keep it at that. I've lived most of my life in a containment chamber. I think… And I am… able to change my appearance."

Tony leaned forward on the counter as he finished his yogurt. "I think that's the most you've told me yet. This must be progress. And you're well fed now so your attitude is better. I should be a counselor, maybe a psychologist. I'm good at this."

"I don't really see that happening, so don't quit your day job." Keeva then shrugged. "I don't trust people though, that's why I… Well, don't tell you anything."

"Really? I never would have guessed that with as lovely as you are. Did Conrad have you the whole time?"

Keeva bit her lip in thought for a moment—_habit?_ "Not… Not the entire time? I don't think… I don't remember who was before him, but I think he took over for someone… I'm not clear on the details, or the past. From the pieces I remember, it was never good. Most of the time, I was kept in the containment chamber. Or so that's what I remember. He didn't know what to do with me, I guess. I would never give him anything he wanted. Before you, I don't remember the last time I had a full meal."

"You look like you've put on weight," responded Tony. "You're not a skeleton anymore."

"It's nice not to be bones." Keeva folded her hands on the counter. "With Conrad, I know I never showed him I could change form. Well, I guess I did since I didn't age. Is that considered changing form? I'm not sure. I know I didn't want to age in his sight but I couldn't stay the same because he would have thought something more of it, but maybe he did. Maybe… If I aged slowly, I had a better chance that he would think I was more normal, I suppose that is what I thought."

"Sorry to tell you, but aging slowly isn't normal in anywhere."

Keeva shrugged with a nod. "Well, he wouldn't try any moves on me… You know… I know he had his eye on me. I think he wanted to father a new generation of humans through me—which makes no sense. That would be a resounding no."

"It sounds like you've had the best of luck in men."

"Oh obviously," Keeva quipped. "They're all real keepers. Well, the one … It's been amazing. And now I'm with you. My record is getting better all the time."

"I try."

"I'm sure."

"Also, with these splendid details you're giving me, you sound like you remember everything that happened to you."

Keeva sighed and looked at the counter. "Yeah, I don't remember much… I just know I was always afraid."

Tony smiled slightly. "You're safe here. I won't make you any promises, because I have a target on my back as Iron Man, but I'll do my best to keep you safe. Many people would kill to be in your position—living with the famous Tony Stark and all."

"Infamous?" she mused.

His brow rose. The girl had more humor then he thought. He also realized Keeva seemed grateful to get the topic off her. _She must be at her limit for telling the truth at the moment._

"Why did you tell the world you were Iron Man?" She looked up at him. "Seems a bit asinine in my opinion."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," he snarked. "Anyway, they wanted me to go with some ridiculous rumor about Iron Man being my bodyguard. Do I look like I need a body guard? I _may_ have been a tad bit cocky about the whole thing."

"You were cocky? I never would have guessed," she responded drily.

"I grew out of that stage. Finally matured as a person, I mean, look at me now! Tony Stark, billionaire and worshipped by millions." He paused. "There are days, however, I wish I could take it back."

"Time travels rough, buddy."

"Yeah," he replied with a slight dark laugh. "It probably wasn't my smartest move. Too bad people will never forget."

She looked at him; an inquisitive look in her eyes. "Like erasing it from their minds?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, but that's impossible. I've tried to think of a way to do it. The technology just isn't there. You can't go into a human mind, read the thoughts and erase the ones that pertain to me being Iron Man. And if I hadn't told everyone, I would have spared myself a lot of pain."

"Hind sights twenty, twenty," she replied. Her eyes narrowed a tiny bit and her lips pursed just slightly—_thinking?_

"Yes, well, it's too late to go back now," he replied and finished his orange juice.

Keeva nodded and reached into the pocket of her sweater. Despite it being summer, she wore sweats. Tony thought it was a bit odd. However, he hadn't gotten her any clothes—so _maybe_ it was partly his fault. Turning his attention back to what she was doing, Stark watched as she brought out the round object he had been working on.

"Where did you find that?"


	6. Gestapo

_Change always comes bearing __gifts__.  
—Price Pritchett_

Keeva did not immediately hand the Star Wars ball to Tony when he reached for it, but held it between both hands instead. "It was under the couch I moved yesterday."

"Gotcha. Well I obviously didn't appreciate the arrangement. And you dislike _my_ taste in style; have you seen yours?" He huffed. "Now can I have give me my sphere back."

"What were you trying to accomplish with it?"

"With what?"

"This." Keeva rolled the sphere in her hands.

"That? Have you ever seen Star Wars?"

Her brow furrowed. "What's a... Star Wars? Is it a battle over a celestial body?"

Regrettably, Tony could believe she hadn't seen Star Wars. He shouldn't have asked. "You've only just begun to live if you haven't seen Star Wars. Jarvis, access the clip where Obi-wan is teaching Luke to sense the force."

"Right away, sir."

In a matter of moments, the wall above the fireplace slid back revealing the television, and an image came on the screen. Keeva watched as the sphere—similar to the one in her hands—floated around a man and fired what appeared to be a laser at him.

"Has this happened? How did they get on the screen?" She rose and approached the screen. "Is this a… a game like I played with the remote?"

"This stuff is pure gold." Tony smirked. "It was made in the late seventies. You can't beat the classics."

"They have gone back in time and put them on the tele… this screen. I thought time travel was impossible?"

Tony's brow rose as amusement washed over his face. Where did she come from that she was so out of the loop? "It's a _mo-vie_. This isn't real. Movies are made for people's entertainment."

"Entertainment?" Her head tilted slightly to the right. "For joy? Like when they put gladiators in an arena to die?"

"Not that type of entertainment. This is for fun, not death. Do you understand?"

"Yes… They said the same thing about watching the gladiators," she growled slightly, and turned back to the sphere as the wall slid back again.

Tony sighed. "Thanks, Jarvis."

"You're welcome, sir."

Stark's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her. "Have you had experiences with gladiators?"

Keeva shook her head. "Not that I recall. Why do you inquire?"

"You seemed cold towards the idea of gladiators."

"It is a gruesome way to die."

"Have you seen a gladiator match?

To this, Keeva was silent for a bit. He watched as she looked around the room before walking over to him. "I don't remember, but I know they are violent. Helpless people against animals and armed individuals…" Her brow furrowed. "How do I know some things but not others?"

"I've been asking that for weeks now! It's like you do have a brain in there, Scarecrow, but no access to it." Keeva shot him a dark look to which he merely half-smirked and asked another question. "Did you believe the game you played the other day was real?"

"It was a simulation, was it not?"

"There you go once again." Tony leaned back on the couch. "Some things you understand and others you don't. Don't hurt yourself trying to riddle it out right now, though. I have a better idea. You really need to watch that whole movie. It's pure classic."

"As you've said." Keeva held out the sphere.

Truth was, he couldn't figure out why some things made sense to her and others didn't. He had riddled about it endless times only to come up with nonsense theories, some of which included her being a Cyborg or that she had her memory tampered with—both of which were highly unlikely.

What did seem likely was the excuse that she had spent so long locked away that the world had passed by without her knowledge. It was an outlandish idea, but if she was referring to gladiators, that might mean she was actually much older than he thought. Steve had gone through something similar. The only thing that had helped good ol' Wing Tips was time. With her lack of knowledge of today's world, hopefully time and experience would be the best doctors for her too. Maybe they would be the keys to open the door.

Tony reached out gently to grab the sphere she offered. Before he could grab it however, it levitated. His eyes widened slightly as the sphere began to hover around.

"How… did you know that's what I was doing?"

"I took the sphere apart and looked it over. I made it fly, but it can also shoot out those laser things. Just like the movie. They're not very powerful, just a little—"

Tony startled as the the sphere shot a red beam at him. He flinched when it hit his arm. Rubbing the spot, he finished her sentence. "Pinch."

"Yes, pretty much. It is safe. No one is going to get hurt. It won't fire at the head. At least, I do not think so."

"Interesting." Tony grabbed it. The slight vibration coming from it, stopped. He turned to her. "How did you know to do that?"

Keeva shrugged. "You'll have to make some modifications; it's not up to par. There is a good chance it could blow up. I would be careful with it."

Tony looked over it, with his head slightly turned to the left. Maybe he should show her the garage. He shook his head against the notion. "So you've never watched the Star Wars movies?"

"Apparently I've never even seen a movie."

"Good call. We're about to change that. We are becoming couch potatoes and watching every movie known to man and a few that aren't. Jarvis, darken the windows. Bring out the popcorn, milk duds and sodas; its movie marathon time."

"Right away, sir."

"Couch potato…?" Keeva bit her lip momentarily. "I do not know if I would like to be a potato that is a couch."

"It's an expression. It doesn't really mean we'll become couch potatoes. You need to get out more."

Tony watched her shrug as she turned to watch the sun fade from view behind the darkening windows. He moved toward the kitchen and grabbed popcorn from one of the cabinet. He threw the package in the microwave and glanced back at Keeva. As the buttery smell filled the air, he noticed she tensed with each pop that came from the bag.

"What is that?" she questioned.

"Popcorn? You've never even had popcorn?"

Keeva shook her head. "I can't say I ate much in Conrad's care."

"You are just full of good points today. Take a seat on the couch. I'll do all the rest—_as usual_."

Her brow rose. "Do you not have to work?"

"It's called _Stark Industries_ for a reason. I do as I please. Now take a seat on the couch."

Tony turned and began shuffling through his cupboards. Finding snacks consisting of pretzels, chocolate, chips—along with a few other random foods, he moved them to the coffee table. He looked up at Keeva who lay curled up in a corner of the couch. With a pillow tucked under her head, her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell gently. It was a good thing she was asleep, she _needed_ it.

After retrieving glasses and drinks for the kitchen, one of the cups slipped from his hands and clattered across the table. He glanced up as her limbs tensed and eyes fluttered open.

"So sleeping beauty, why were you doing down here last night?"

She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "I was working on the sphere. It gets stuffy in the room so I moved down here."

"I've said you're allowed on this floor or the top floor."

"I _know_. That's why I was down here. I did not go down to the bottom floor as per your request." She looked at him. "What's down those stairs anyway?"

"Nowhere you're allowed."

"Bodies?"

"Yes, I'm secretly a mass murderer. Call me Jack the Ripper. Congratulations on figuring that out, detective. Now let the movies begin!" Tony exclaimed as he collapsed on the opposite side of the couch.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony started with his favorite movies and then worked towards the newer ones he didn't love as much. Keeva seemed to perfer the early nineties Disney movies. He didn't miss the fact that when Mufasa died, she wiped a few stray tears away. It had been the first sign of emotion she really showed since arriving—other than anger and sarcasm. He had rolled his eyes however, when she compared him to the Beast stating the similarities between keeping Belle and telling her not to go to the West Wing. _What a smart ass._

Two weeks into their movie venture, they were interrupted by the doorbell. Tony grudgingly rose to answer it.

"Jarvis, who is it?"

"General James Rhodes, sir."

Tony stiffened. "Jarvis, take off the dimmers." He watched as the lights came on. Pausing momentarily, he knew he couldn't let Rhodey know he found the girl. He looked at her. "Stay here."

Stark turned and walked towards the entryway. After taking a deep breath, he opened the door. A smirk forced its way onto his lips as he looked over the dark-skinned general. "I'm surprised you didn't just barge in, buddy. Isn't that what you normally do? I'm not sure what to do right now. I can't believe you respected my privacy for once. I'm really at a loss."

"I almost barged in," replied Rhodes. "I thought you might be dead, Tony. I haven't seen or heard from you in over two weeks. Neither has anyone else, actually."

He shook his head. "Nope, I'm just working from home. I'll make sure to check in next time. Thanks for looking in on me, dad."

Rhodes pushed past him despite Tony's attempt to get rid of him. Stark stiffened. Rhodey couldn't find the girl. Taking a breath, he turned and followed Rhodes.

"What have you been up too?"

Tony sighed. "There goes the respect, just barging in. Isn't this against my third amendment?"

"I'm not staying in your house, Tony."

"You just barged in! I know I have a right against this. You don't have a warrant. No warrant! This is illegal!"

"This isn't a search and seizure, Tony. I just asked what you've been up too."

"I haven't been up to anything, Rhodey. And it appears to me that you are searching. I'd like to know for what. You won't find any bottles around. I'm not drinking. So, exit stage right, before I get my lawyer on the line."

Rhodes moved towards the living room, his eyes sweeping from wall to wall. As he cleared each room, he moved further into the house and approached the family room, kitchen. He glanced back at Tony. "First, you shove me out of your house unexplainably months ago to which you said you'd explain, but never did. Then you disappear suddenly for two weeks, and now you're kicking me out? Why are you acting odd, Tony?"

"Nothing, I—Wait! Stop!" exclaimed Tony as Rhodes entered the family room. Stark braced for the questions. "I can explain."

Rhodes turned and looked at him. "Explain what?"

He leaned past Rhodey and peeked into the family room. It was dark again, the television was on, and the couch was empty. "Explain…"

"Why the room is so messy?" laughed Rhodes, and his shoulders relaxed.

"Just… watching a movie, Rhodey. Don't you ever get in one of those movie moods? All you want to do is stay home and watch every movie you own? When the need hits—"

"What are you watching?"

"Whatever movie you hate the most."

"Did I interrupt you from something that involves lotion?"

"Does it appear that way?"

"You do seem a bit off."

"What? Are you the Gestapo, Rhodes? Geez, I'm fine. Now leave."

Rhodes looked at him. "What's wrong with you, Tony? You're acting odd. Are you still upset over having lost Conrad again? I'm sorry you didn't find what you were looking for on that trip, and that you couldn't find the girl. She would have been an asset to the United States."

Tony tensed slightly at the mention of _asset._ "Look, Rhodey, I am upset about not finding the girl, but I can't let my whole life dwell on her. I can only hope to find Conrad and eventually to find her. Conrad is bound to make a mistake. His employees were not all that bright. I suppose they fit the evil minion requirement, but that is barely. They got in by the skin of their teeth. If that was me and I had evil henchmen—"

Rhodes sighed. "I worry about you, Tony. You've never been the same since—"

"Do not mention that! Do you understand me?" Stark snapped.

Rhodes nodded, finally seeming content, and moved to leave as his eyes swept once more over the table. One eye brow rose in puzzlement. "Tony, why do you have two glasses out?"

"I wanted to drink two different things. One's juice, the other's soda. Do you have any more questions or can I get back to watching my movie?"

"Are you lying, Tony? Is there someone else here?"

"No, Rhodes. No one else is here."

Rhodes nodded slowly. "I'll let you get back to your movie then." Instead of walking back the way he came, he walked through the hallway to the left of the kitchen which lead back around toward the entry way, continuing to search for something unseen.

Rhodes paused at the door looking one more time at Stark. "I'm here if you need anything, Tony."

"I know, Gestapo. You've made that clear. I'll catch up with you soon."

Tony let Rhodes out and locked the door. He was grateful—and yet partly surprised—that Rhodey didn't check upstairs or in the garage. Shaking his head, he returned to the living to find Keeva on the couch with her cup in hand.

His brow rose. "Where did you go?"

"I figured that man might come into the house, so I hid in the hallway. You seemed a bit anxious that he was at the door. The story would look more believable if you were watching movies."

"He looked in the hallway."

"Yes, but your wall goes around, so I kept circling." She shrugged. "Who's the Ges… Gesta… Gestapo?"

"Rhodey? He's one of my best friends—probably my best friend."

"Why did you lie to him then?"

"I didn't want him knowing I had anyone over."

"Why did you lie to him about me?"

"I just said I didn't—"

"No," Keeva interrupted. "I meant about finding me."

"Geez, is everyone trying out for the secret police today? Did I somehow sign up for the Spanish Inquisition?" Tony sighed as he sat on the couch. "Rhodes would make me hand you over to the government to be interrogated about Conrad."

"That's a bad thing?"

"They wouldn't let you leave. With them, you would end up the same as you were with Conrad."

"So you're keeping me hostage here for my own good?"

"For your own good, yes. I'm trying to keep you safe."

Keeva nodded. "Why was he referring to lotion and movies?"

A wide smirk crossed his face. "You're so innocent. It's been a while since I've met one so virginal. But I won't open you up to that web yet. In time, yes, but not at the moment; I'll let you live in a naive bubble."

Keeva eyed him, and then her eyes dropped for a moment to his belt as if she realized what he was talking about. She looked back the screen. "Right… Can we get back to the movie now? I want to see what happens to this wizard and the man with no nose."

Tony chuckled and relaxed. Maybe she was a bit more civilized then he assumed. Keeva also seemed to accept the fact he was trying to hide her, which meant that was one less battle he would have to fight with her. "Of course."

*TiC*TiC*TiC*

When Tony finally started returning to work Keeva was left at home again. At first he found her waiting for him to come home at night, and usually there was dinner involved with that. He wasn't surprised when she started questioning more about his company and line of work. However, he wasn't prepared for when she abruptly stopped cooking and appearing.

After a week and a half of barely seeing Keeva, Stark walked to her room, and knocked on the door. It took her a while to answer, which was odd. He debated whether to barge in there or not. When she finally answered the door, she held a book in her hands. It wasn't uncommon for him to catch her reading; she seemed to enjoy it immensely.

He glanced at the title. "Grow tired of your Norse mythology?"

"What?"

"You're reading Lord of the Rings."

Keeva looked down. "Oh, yeah. I watched the movie with you, and I figured reading the book would be fun. It's funny because even though I watched the movies, I thought hobbits were little bears when I first started reading. And anyway, I didn't grow tired of the Norse legends. I ran out. This seemed like the next logical choice. It's quite an adventure. And if we're on the topic of books, I've pretty much finished your library."

"I see. You didn't get out much with Conrad did you? Not a very big experience in the world." Tony leaned against the door frame.

She rolled her eyes and leaned on the corner of the door. "What brings you to the abode?"

He noticed that while her voice still had a hint of a British accent—or maybe it was Australian, weren't they basically the same anyway?—she spoke as if she was finally entering this century. He crossed his arms. "I noticed you haven't been around as much when I get home."

"Lonely without me?"

"Actually, I kind of think _you_ miss _me_. Who wouldn't miss Tony Stark though?"

A slight change appeared in her face. She looked a bit confused by something, and a bit of pink came to her cheeks.

Tony's brow rose. "I know that you don't like to be dependent on people."

"Why would you think that, Mr. Stark?"

"Because you used to greet me downstairs and cook, or sit with me while I cooked—or attempt too. You were slowly getting to know me. You liked being out of your room with me."

"Charming how this is all about you."

"Always is. Continuing though, you were starting to actually make a relationship with a person—something you've probably never known—and you're becoming dependent on me being around. You don't like that feeling. No one likes being vulnerable. It's a part of being human though."

"Are you trying to say I'm not human?"

"No, I'm saying that you forgot how to _be_ human."

Keeva's eye brows raised and lowered as she looked to the carpet. "I wouldn't… I…I don't know how to react around people. I know how to run from people."

"I think we both know this already. And it makes perfect sense because you probably haven't been treated like a human in a long while. And look, I enjoy Jarvis, but I also like human contact from time to time—especially when it involves females. That being said, I'd appreciate it if you came out of your room."

She sighed and nodded. "I suppose. What do you want to do?"

"Well, I thought tonight we—you—could cook and watch another movie. Tomorrow, I'm thinking I'll take you around town, we'll eat out at places, and we'll definitely get you some clothes."

Keeva looked down at her sweats. "What's wrong with these?"

"Don't you want something more?"

A brow rose. "Different color sweats?"

He shook his head. "I'm talking a whole wardrobe. Don't you want more than sweats?"

"I... don't know."

"I'll decide for you then and that's the plan. We're starting shopping early in the morning so you can have clothes to walk around in." Tony swore he saw a hint of a smile creep onto her lips. He wasn't sure she had ever smiled in front of him.

"So I have to be up early tomorrow morning?"

"That's the deal."

Keeva nodded and a new light entered her eyes—_hope?_ He felt a soft weight settle onto his shoulders. To his knowledge she had never trusted anyone and now she was beginning to rely on him. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Let's go, Keevs. I think I know the perfect thing to eat." Tony walked downstairs and pulled out his cell phone. Dialing a number, he waited for the line to answer. Glancing at her, he noticed her biting her lip and her limbs stiff. "What do you like on your pizza?"

Her brow rose. "That's the circle food that comes in the box, right?"

Tony looked at her. Sometimes he wondered if she really had no idea what was going on or if she was just playing a game. He thought of Steve and settled with the fact she was just really out of her element—although Old Glory _did_ know what a pizza was. "You'll just have to see."

As he ordered dinner, he watched her settle onto the couch. Her lips pursed to one side as her eyes darted around the room. He gently shook his head and hung up the phone before turning another movie on. When the door bell rang, he paused the video and walked to retrieve dinner.

When Stark came back with the box, he saw the worried look etched on Keeva's face. Setting it down on the table, he opened it up. Her head tilted to the right as she looked at the circular pie. Tony put a few slices on a plate and handed it to her.

"Time to expand your taste buds again." He took a few slices for himself. Settling down again, he put the movie back on. Tony half-watched as Keeva ate her fill. Apparently she was enjoying it.

When the movie finished, he turned on the news. Apparently, Keeva wasn't interested in any types of politics—or so it became apparent as he soon found her fast asleep again. Rising from the couch, he walked over, picked her up, and took her to her room. As he tucked her into bed, she startled; eyes wide and jagged breaths leaving her lips.

"It's okay," Tony said softly. "You fell asleep sometime during the news. I know it's boring, but I want to make sure I put out any fires that I started."

She eyed the room suspiciously before relaxing. "You haven't gone out as Iron Man…"

"That you've seen. Now get some rest. We're going out tomorrow."

She nodded as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**As always, see profile for disclaimers****  
**


	7. West Wing

**Read me:  
**

**It's been a while! Thanks for being patient. I went back over my past chapters, overhauling them. because they weren't what I wanted them to be. Writing is always an ongoing process, and I am finally happy with them. There are some major changes (including the title). Swing back around and check those out. Refresh yourself with the story.  
**

**Also, a special thanks to Tune who's been involved in the whole grammar part. She's amazing!**

**Thank you again for your patience!**

**As always, I own nothing but my OC, I just work with those I love. Enjoy. Let me know what you think.**

* * *

_Beast: I... um... hope you like it here.  
The castle is your home now,  
so you can go anywhere you wish,  
except the West Wing.  
Belle: What's in the West Wing?  
Beast: It's forbidden!_

—_Beauty and the Beast_

In the morning, she entered the living room to find Tony on the phone. Was this pizza for breakfast as well? The whole pie hadn't been eaten, had it? Stark's attitude was different, though. Something seemed to have happened. Seating herself on a stool, Keeva waited to be addressed. When he finally seemed to notice she had surfaced, he put the call on hold.

"Hey, there's been some business that's come up—things I _apparently_ can't get out of—so we'll have to push back the shopping thing. We'll shoot for tomorrow. Okay? There are donuts on the counter to eat. I'll be home tonight."

Keeva nodded—which apparently he was too busy to notice—and watched with dashed hopes as he left. No part of her wanted to be left in this house for another day. She had already spent months cooped up here. And if he was always working or spending time with her, was he _really_ Iron Man? She had silent doubts since day one, but events like this made it even harder to believe Iron Man and Tony Stark were one in the same.

The girl rose, snagged a donut, then looked about the empty house. What was she going to do today? _The same thing you do every day, Keeva, absolutely nothing._ It was hard for her to cope, having heard she was leaving confinement only to find out she wasn't. It caused normal routines to no longer be satisfying for some reason. She needed to find something that would pull her out of disappointment and boredom.

Reading didn't possess that pull nor did movies. Those were the same things she did every day, plus she had almost finished Tony's library anyway. Maybe some games on the console would occupy her mind. Perhaps she could get lost in another world that way.

Starting for the television, her eyes caught the forbidden stairwell. What was kept in the lower level? She glanced about the room to make sure she was alone. She already knew Stark had left so maybe it was out of some instinct. With donut in mouth, she crept toward the stairs.

Looking down the abyss, guilt gripped Keeva as did curiosity—the two fighting like monsters over her thoughts. Tony had treated her well, and she was considering going where he told her not to. That would be a huge betrayal when he had been so kind. It would most likely put a damper on the progress now being made between them, and she did not want that in the least.

However, her mind was already questioning things. Why was it so secretive? Why had he forbid her from it? Was he keeping a creature down there? Something illegal maybe? Taking a bite of the donut, she put a foot gingerly on the first step. The guilt monster roared. Shaking her head, Keeva turned back to the television. She would not—could not—disrespect him after he had been so nice to her.

Conrad had never been as kind.

The morning ticked slowly by, unlike the remote buttons which sped through countless television channels, and by noon Keeva was in no better shape than she was earlier. Her legs had swung over the back of the couch, while the seat supported her back, and she watched the world from an upside down view-point. It had made viewing the shows interesting for about three seconds. She needed to get out. With the floor on the ceiling, she looked over to the stairwell. What was up there—or actually down there?

The curiosity monster snarled inside, silencing the guilt beast. Stark wasn't here, but would Jarvis rat her out? Did the invisible computer document her every move? Flipping to a standing position, she looked at the staircase again. Would it hurt her just to look? She started for the stairs. Would it be horrible if she took a peek?

She put a toe on the step.

Keeva's eyes shifted back and forth, searching for some sort of alarm or perhaps Jarvis watching; regardless, she stepped down again. Freezing momentarily, Tony's wishes came to mind. The curiosity monster shoved it from her mind as she took a third step. This vigilant routine kept up till she reached the bottom. No alarms sounded. Perhaps she was safe.

Gazing at the new territory, Keeva gasped at the sight. Behind a glass wall stood a garage with several shiny cars. While they were interesting, something else captivated her attention. A computer close to the door drew her attention, as did a few inventions Stark had obviously been working on, which were situated against the back corner of the room.

Looking toward the glass door, she noticed a code box light up on the glass. Apparently numbers needed to be entered for access—numbers she didn't have. Was there a way around this? Her eyes scanned the glass, but found no faults or handles. Breaking the glass would give her away. Well, at least Tony wouldn't be upset with her for entering.

Taking a deep breath, she put her hand gently on the glass. Just seeing this place brought on another round of disappointment at being stuck in the upstairs prison. Despite having more freedom, she felt the same bonds Conrad had placed on her. With another sigh, she leaned forward to rest her forehead against the cold smooth surface.

It came as a complete surprise when she tumbled through it, smacking her face against the cold, cement floor. With a groan, she turned to face the glass. Had she broke it? Oh God, if she had broken it, Tony would be mad. This was a forbidden place, a taboo that they never spoke of.

The glass wasn't broken, however.

It was still smooth and free of fingerprints. She hadn't gone through the door, which was over to the right. So, how had she gotten in here? Rising to her feet, Keeva pushed against the glass. Unfortunately, this gesture did not have the same effect as it did initially.

Quickly, she realized the predicament she was now in. How she went through the first time was not as important as how she was going to get out. If Tony caught her in here… She was in trouble—serious trouble.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she turned to look around. Was Jarvis watching her? Would he alert Stark? What would the so-called 'man of iron' do to her? As she scanned the room, her eyes settled on the inventions in the corner. They seemed to glow like a neon sign, demanding her attention. If Keeva was stuck in here, she might as well do something with her time.

How much more trouble could she honestly get into?

Cautiously, she padded over to them. These inventions were odds and ends, things not exactly put together. Digging through the box an old shield, half-finished with part of a white star, snagged her attention. The safeguard was made out of was quite ingenious substance. Keeva remembered Conrad had some of that material. He called it Adamantium.

Still holding the shield, her attention turned towards the computer. Is that where Jarvis was housed? Could he be watching her from it right now?

The computer itself was odd: three transparent monitors gave a face to the hard-drive. Keeva looked around for a keyboard or mouse. When she didn't see one, she took another look at the table. Maybe the tabletop lit up like the door. A glass box on the right corner of the table caught the girl's focus. Setting the shield on the desk, she reached and picked it up.

Her head cocked slightly to the side. Cased in glass was some sort of round contraption. An eye brow rose as Keeva studied it. The glass held no cracks or scratches and it seemed to have been recently polished. The seemingly cherished object was some sort of device. Inscribed on a plaque ringing the circle it read: _Proof that Tony Stark has a heart._ She would be willing to bet this was given by the person he refused to talk about.

Setting down the contraption, she gently ran her fingers over the glass table causing a keyboard to light up, along with the computer screen. It _was_ like the door panel. While being similar to a keyboard, it held extra buttons that didn't make any sense. She refrained from touching anything more, afraid that she might break something. A sliding noise to the right startled her. Looking over, metal panels slid down revealing the Iron Man suits.

"No way…"

Eyes widened like a child's as her attention turned to the suits. Grabbing the shield, Keeva approached them.

All the previous suits were there, set behind glass, in order of earliest to most recent. Walking to the original, she studied each one in order. When she reached the one he donned now, flashes of red and gold metal flooded her mind.

Keeva remembered the day she had been taken from the forest in India. This was the one that rushed to save her from Conrad. This is the one that had freed her from the island. This was her savior. She rose to her toes, her hand gently touching the glass as she studied this face mask.

Tony. Hadn't. Lied.

While she had partly believed he was Iron Man due to the light in his chest, she wasn't foolish enough to just take his word. No one was honest; everyone had an ulterior motive. The people she had known and remembered were cruel, unkind, and lied at every chance. Why should this man have been any different?

Tony _was_ different, however. Keeva's heart leapt a little at the thought. He—Iron Man— was an honest and trustworthy person. The thought hit her like a wave. She had never had anyone to depend on. Tony may have a reason for keeping her, but she could rely on him.

That's when the guilt hit.

It ignited its way like fire through her thoughts.

Keeva could trust him, but he couldn't rely on her in the same way. This safe environment he kept her; she had violated. She needed to find a way out of here. Maybe this situation could still be salvaged. It would be another lie, but perhaps it might be for the better—this whole day sucked.

"Should you be in here?"

Keeva jumped as her eyes scanned the room. Was she caught? No, there was no one here. That wasn't Tony's voice. "Uh… Hello?" Did the man of iron have more than one voiceless body that could talk?

Despite the question, no answer or reply came. Biting her bottom lip, she took a breath, and resumed trying to get out of the room. Maybe she could go back through the glass? If she pressed on the glass now, would it allow her to pass? Her eyes, however, were drawn in again by the red and gold suit. He had saved her…

"Funny how you _always_ disobey."

Keeva looked around again, her eyes glancing to the glass door. No one was entering through there. She scanned the cement walls looking for another door. A large square entry way was placed at the back—or maybe that was the front—of the room, but it stood empty as well. Maybe it was Jarvis?

It didn't sound like him, though. The voice wasn't British or dashing or… Was the word Automotive? Automaid? Something like that Tony had once said when referring to Jarvis. This sounded dark, sleek, and invoked a sense of fear. Despite her better judgment she spoke again. "Who's there?"

"I'm disappointed you don't remember."

Keeva looked up to the glass wall leading to the stairs. When she had looked seconds before no one was there. Now, there stood a rather attractive man dressed in black, with dark hair and dark irises. They were not friendly dark eyes; they frightened her with their soulless appearance. This stranger watched her as a tiger watches its prey before it devours it. Keeva gripped the shield as if it would protect her. Something about him seemed familiar. She knew to fear him other than based on instinct.

"Who are you?"

"That's quite a question for you, isn't it? Somewhere inside that intelligent brain of yours, you remember."

Keeva shook her head. "I-I don't…"

"You don't recall? Don't be asinine." He chuckled. "You already understand why you don't remember."

"Did you do this to me?"

"I didn't. However, you still disobey just like you did before."

"What are you talking about? Do you know me?"

"Seems a bit obvious, doesn't it?"

"Why are you playing games?" Keeva questioned.

"Who is it here that's playing the games? You've become a disgusting house pet."

"A house pet? What do you know about me?"

"More than you think."

Keeva feared that if she moved her gaze away from him, the stranger would attack. Could he get through the glass the same way she had? "If… If you have no answers for me than you are of no use here."

"I wonder what Tony will think when he comes home." The man commented as if she hadn't spoken. "Finding you in the one place he told you not to go. I wonder if this would be biting the hand that feeds you. Perhaps not. You're not attacking him; although you are intruding on his sanctuary."

"Wh-where did you come from?" Keeva questioned. How had he gotten in without Jarvis informing someone? The cuffs would protect her, right?

While his gaze turned on her, sending chills through her spine, his voice remained steady and calm. "You do understand the danger you've put dear Tony in, correct? People are searching for you and when they come, they won't care for prisoners. Everyone's favorite Iron Man won't stand a chance. They might collect that interesting trinket in his chest though. That is worth something."

Her eyes widened as she shook her head. "What? No. Who's coming? Who'll kill Tony?"

"Gosh… Who was it now? I can't seemed to recall, but," he feigned a gasp, "what will the world do without Iron Man?"

Keeva looked down at the shield in her grip; it shuddered violently. Whoever was seeking for her wouldn't be taking prisoners. Tony was vulnerable, then. They were going to kill Tony. This stranger had to give her more information. He had to tell her more. There had to be a way to stop what was set in motion.

"Who is coming?" She questioned.

Silence met her.

Looking back up, the man was gone. Her gaze swept across the room only to realize the stranger had simply vanished. Where had he gone? He needed to answer her. She needed to find out who was coming. As she moved to walk towards the door, she found herself paralyzed by fear. She realized who the stranger had implied.

He meant Conrad. That was who was coming for her. Conrad had once told her she would never escape his grasp. Even if she did run, he would find her. Tony had disrupted his plans, and would now have to pay the ultimate price. No one interfered with him.

Keeva forced herself to turn back towards the suits. Sinking to her knees in front of the armor, she attempted to keep breathing and stop shuddering. The world needed Iron Man. They needed a savior. They needed someone who would bring them into a new era.

Her mind shifted in a blur as thoughts moved back to the stranger. Who was this dark man? How had he gotten in here? What did he want? This stranger spoke as if he knew her personally. What was even more frightening was that he had obviously hunted her down. Was he an ally of Conrad?

Keeva startled when the glass door opened. Was this man back for her? Was he coming to retrieve her? Had Conrad arrived? Would he now lay in wait for Tony? How did he enter? How could she get out? Fear gripped her, terrified at who had come for her. She prayed it wasn't him.

"What are you doing in here?!" demanded Tony, home early and quite angry.

"I… I… I was just… I'm…"

"Didn't I say this is the one place you couldn't go? After everything, you thought you'd get close to me and this would be fine?"

"I-I didn't… I-I-I'm sorry," Tears ran down her cheeks. Her thoughts were a scattered mess from that man. This had been the situation she wanted to avoid. "I-I was curious. And bored. I was a-alone. I d-d-didn't know you were Iron Man…"

Tony looked taken aback, as well as more enraged. "You didn't _know_ I was Iron Man? Did you assume I lied to you? For months now, you've just pacified me by going along with what I said? Is this another lie? Has it always been your intention to sneak in here and gain information for Conrad? Is that what this has been?"

"What? No!" Keeva hadn't meant to tell him she didn't believe. It just slipped out in the moment. An overwhelming instinct to flee overcame her as Tony approached. She was on her feet in an instant, shrinking against the glass. The one person that helped her, she had just disregarded. "I-I would never do a-anything for that man. And I-I wasn't sure you were Iron Man. I never-never saw a suit. I'm—I'm sorry…"

"How did you get in here?"

"I just… I-I-I walked through the glass."

"Walked through the glass?" Tony asked sarcastically and skeptically.

Keeva nodded. Was Tony going to hurt her? "I-I know it seems absurd… And not likely… B-B-But—" She gasped, falling backwards onto the Iron Man suit. Her eyes looked down as the shield hit the floor on the other side of the glass with a resounding clang.

Tony's eyes widened as Keeva looked around, alarmed. This was not her day. Tremors rolled through her body. When she steadied herself against the suit, her hand pressed on the glass trying to get through. This could not get any worse.

"I should have known you were a spy for Conrad."

"I'm not!" she implored, voice muffled by the thickness of the glass. Wait, shouldn't the fact she was on this side of the glass be proof? This thought focused her attention on something else, and her prior fears seemed to momentarily flee. "I'm not a spy!"

"You expect me to believe this after I find you snooping down here?"

"I wasn't snooping. Doesn't this prove I'm not a spy?"

"Jarvis, it's time to tell Rhodes I have his little prize."

"Shall I get him on the phone for you, sir?"

There was the fear again, wraiths coming back in, latching on like leeches. Keeva shook. Things had just gone from worse to dreadful.

"Please!" She pounded on the glass. "Please! I didn't mean any harm! Please! I didn't! Please don't hand me over! I'll… I'll do anything! Please! I'll—I'll give you my real name!"

She watched helplessly as Tony stared at her. He seemed to be contemplating something. After watching her a moment more, he walked to the computer. He pushed a few spots on the tabletop. For a second moment, nothing happened. Then the container opened, allowing Keeva to step out.

"I guess this ghosting doesn't always work," he said. His anger seemed slightly faded. She shook her head in response. "Keep your name. I don't want it."

Tony had decided to believe her. She was grateful for his mercy. Bending down, she gingerly picking up the shield as if it was a child's blanket that would protect her from the monsters. She proceeded to take a few hesitant steps forward, allowing him to close the glass.

"Why are you so frightened?"

To tell him or not to tell him? There was no use for a lie. "This… This man… You're going to think I'm insane."

"After this event, I already think that. Now start talking."

"Good point. Well, after I fell through the glass—"

"Is that why your head has that gigantic knot on it?"

Keeva felt her head. The effects of the fall seemed to be forgotten in the entire action of the day. "Do you want me to tell this story?"

"By all means, continue."

"So, this man—"

"Is there a reason why you're standing on the other side of the room from me?"

"What?"

"Why are you standing all the way over there?" Keeva shrugged in reply. He pulled over another stool, and sat at his desk. Tony patted the empty stool. "Come over here."

Keeva rubbed the back of her neck, shifting from foot to foot. Was he setting a trap? Would the man of iron do anything once she approached? Cautiously, she moved toward him and took a seat.

"So continue."

"Will you let me?"

"Of course, Keeva. Stop trying to avoid the story."

"Well, this man appeared down here and—"

"Did you know him? What did he look like? When you say man was he young or old?"

"Seriously, Stark?!" He just smirked at her. She realized then his goal was getting her to calm down. She heaved a sigh; her shoulders visibly relaxed. "So, this stranger, he had dark hair and dark eyes. He appeared down here on the other side of the glass—or maybe he was in it… I'm not sure. He was saying things, and he knew me. I have no idea who he was, but he knew me."

"So what'd he say?"

"That I disobeyed you—"

"Well, that's true. I told you not to come down here."

"I figured there would be chains or whips or dead bodies or perhaps a shrine dedicated to you." Stark issued toward the suits. Keeva almost chuckled. "Apparently, you do have a shrine."

"I am Tony Stark, you know." He pulled at the shield locked in her death grip.

"No," she responded childishly, holding it closer.

Stark shook his head. His fingers moved to wipe away the clinging tears from her face. "So what else did mister dark and scary say?"

"Aren't you concerned that he knew you?"

"Everyone knows me. And I'm more concerned with you finishing this drawn out story," he quipped. "Now, what else did he say?"

"That someone—Conrad—is seeking for me. When they come for me, they'll kill you. Conrad wants no prisoners. He'll be interested in the trinket on your chest, and your name in the obituary."

"Well, you're safe here. He's obviously never tried to get past Stark technology."

"Jarvis didn't know the man was here."

Tony straightened at this. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Was there anyone here apart from Keeva?"

"I have no record of anyone. I did find it rather odd that Miss Keeva was talking to herself."

For the first time, Stark looked away visibly concerned. He said nothing in response as this revelation sank in. Keeva shifted uncomfortably in her seat. This awkward silence unsettled her.

"So," said Keeva, breaking the quiet. "Is this shield supposed to protect people?"

"Isn't that what shields are for?" Tony questioned, being drawn from his reverie. "Come on. You should know this."

"Well, it's just made from that Adamantium stuff. It's tough, but not always effective."

"You know about Adamantium?"

"Conrad was always trying to get his hands on it."

"I shouldn't be surprised. You did know some things about his operation then."

"A little. Anyway, why use this on a shield?"

"It's a prototype. The real thing is made of strong materials."

"Oh? There's stronger metals?"

"There's always something stronger out there. Well, except when it comes to me. I am the best," Tony responded.

Keeva looked at the six suits behind her. "If you're the best, then you wouldn't have six suits; you'd only have one or two."

"It's always good to move forward in technology. And you never would have known about them if you didn't come down here."

"Why am I not allowed in here? This is like that scene from Beauty and the Beast."

"Consider me the beast then—"

"Oh no, I don't have Stockholm syndrome, do I?"

"Everyone falls in love with me."

"But I'm not in love with you. This is kinda the same scenario. If you were arrested for kidnapping me, I wouldn't testify against you." She held up the cuffs on her wrists. "But you have bound me to your place of residence. Anyway, so, why am I not allowed in here?"

Tony shook his head with a slight chuckle. The conversation then took a serious turn. "This is my private work place. I still don't know who you are or what your intentions are. Maybe you wanted to gain access to private information. This is my one place of solace… The one place…"

"You can remember who you lost." Keeva completed with a look towards the contraption—the rose.

Tony nodded as he looked at the device. "It's called an arc reactor. It's what keeps me alive."

"You live by it?"

"I need it to live." With a sigh he unbuttoned his shirt, allowing Keeva to see the glowing light in his chest.

"Why do you need it?"

"I was hit with shrapnel. Without this, it would reach my heart and kill me."

"You can't have it removed?"

"If I want to die."

"How did it happen?" Hesitantly she reached forward, and placed her finger tips on the contraption. This one was slightly different. It was still circular but a triangle now was the center.

Tony sighed. "Someone who used to work for me. He wanted me dead, wanted my company. There's a terrorist group called the Ten Rings that he paid off to kill me, but that was a long, long time ago."

Keeva looked at him as he buttoned his shirt. "Did it hurt?"

"Yeah, but in the end there has been a lot of good that has come out of it."

"But also some bad."

"Everything comes with a price."

Keeva flinched at this. "Even me?"

"If there is a price to you Keevs, it hasn't revealed itself yet."

"Keevs?"

"Just mixing it up a bit."

Once again, she almost smiled. The gesture was quickly dismissed as a grim thought was processed. Stark risked a lot on her behalf, yet she was not as generous. "I'm really sorry, Tony. I shouldn't have come down here. I didn't mean to disrespect you."

Tony sighed. "Well, you were in the wrong. You seem to believe that this house belongs to you." He then smirked. "It's fine, Keeva. I should have just brought you down here anyway. You probably would enjoy it."

"You had your reasons for keeping me out."

"Yeah, well, if you want to come down here again, the code is 4766. Just try not to lock yourself in next time." He rose; fully intent on moving toward the door. "Hungry?"

Keeva didn't move from the desk. "What price did you have to pay?"

Tony looked at her. "What?"

"For the reactor, what price? Who did you lose?" The girl looked at him with soft eyes. "It's the reason why you're closed off, and you won't rearrange the furniture. It's also why I wasn't allowed down here."

"It's in the past, now. Doesn't really matter anymore; life goes on."

Keeva grabbed the arc reactor. "They gave you this. They must have mattered."

~TS~TS~TS~TS~

_They must have mattered… No, not they. _She_ must have mattered.  
_

Tony took the reactor in Keeva's hands. It brought back unwanted thoughts and memories. They strayed to the event surrounding this device.

He had said at the time he wasn't nostalgic. Pepper knew differently; she knew it meant a lot to him. He swallowed, trying not to allow himself to break down. "Her name was Virginia Potts; she was an assistant. She moved on to another job." Keeva shot him a bullshit look. Her face then softened, waiting for the real story. Tony cleared his throat and proceeded. "Pepper was her nickname. She was my assistant, best friend, and fiancée. She-She was killed… One of my enemies wanted to make a statement. They… made it loud and clear. Burying her was the hardest thing I've ever had to do." Taking a deep breath, he turned to her, blinking away any sign of glossy eyes. Three years later, he still missed her. He had to change the subject. "How about you, Keev? Who have you lost? There must be someone."

Keeva's brow drew together as she looked away. Clenching the shield to her, she cleared her throat and responded. "For me, it's not so much whom I've lost. It's more of what. I mean, I lost me… I don't know anything or remember anything. I don't know if I've lost anyone or if anyone misses me."

Tears slipped down her face. Tony reached out and wiped them away. "Why wouldn't someone miss you, Keevs? Everyone has family."

"When I was with Conrad, it was like he knew who I was. He would wake me from the sleep he so often put me in only to make comments and say things that did not make sense to me. I didn't understand, and then he would laugh. He would reference things that had happened, and I didn't know of the event. I…I lost everything."


	8. Somebody That I Used To Know

**A special thanks to Tune4Toons for all her help. Like Super Smash Bros, Starfox or 999? Check out her _amazing_ stories!  
**

******The normal I own nothing blah, blah, but wish I did. I do own Keevs, however. Don't be afraid of the box at the bottom. ;) Enjoy!  
**

* * *

"_The life of the dead  
is placed in the memory of the living."_

—_Marcus Tullius Cicero_

Keeva sat in the chair against her will. She knew Stark meant well, but this was outside her comfort zone. Rachel—some black haired, stylist with tight clothes—worked on coloring the brown mess of hair that sat atop Keeva's head. Another woman—with a gentle smile— worked on her nails. Tony explained plenty of girls loved this treatment. As nice as it was to be pampered, it meant she had to socialize with these two. And they were prying into her private life.

"So where are you from?" asked the girl—Stasi—working on her nails.

"Um…" Keeva struggled to come up with an answer. "Eur-Europe."

"What's it like there?" Stasi continued as she shaped Keeva's nails.

"Pleasant. At times, I do miss it."

Rachel coughed. Did she not believe her? "What brings you here?"

"I needed a change."

"How did you meet, Tony?" Rachel pressed on.

Keeva hesitated. Tony hadn't given her a back story. She said the first thing that came to mind. "We met through our parents and their businesses."

"You've been friends for years then?" asked Stasi.

Keeva nodded. "Yes, you could say that."

"Were you friends with Pepper?"

"Yes, we were close."

"You must have been devastated when Pepper disappeared," commented Rachel.

Did no one know what truly happened to Pepper? Well, it wasn't her secret to give away. "It was horrid."

The two women working on her remained silent. Apparently, people ceased to talk when it came to Pepper. Regardless of the reason, Keeva was glad to have a few quiet moments where she wasn't lying. It gave her time to reflect back on earlier events that had gotten her here.

_Keeva had been surprised when she walked downstairs to find Tony already awake. After grabbing a bowl of cereal, she took a seat next to him at the counter. He put down his phone, turning to her with a yawn._

"_We have plans."_

"_Plans?" She questioned between bites._

"_I told you we were going out. Did you forget?"_

"_Maybe."_

"_Well, hurry up. We're going out."_

_Keeva paused with the spoon in her mouth. A question crossed her face as she withdrew the utensil. "How am I getting outside the house? I have on these wonderful cuffs."_

"_What do you say we remove those stunning bracelets, then?"_

_An eye brow rose slightly. "You don't trust me."_

_Tony dug through his pocket, and pulled out his keys. A rectangular object was attached to them. He flicked a button, causing a tiny screw driver head to snap out. Stark then slapped the table. "Put your adorable cuffs up here."_

_Keeva put down the spoon, then placed her wrists on the counter. "You're certain you trust me?"_

_Stark nodded as he pulled one wrist towards him. He popped open a small panel Keeva hadn't seen. "I doubt you'll do anything. Plus, you deserve the chance to be normal." Inserting the screw driver, he twisted. The cuff snapped off. He proceeded with the second one._

"_I can roam freely outside the house?"_

"_I don't know if _freely_ is right the word. I may let the leash kids think they're liberated, but I don't give them freedom."_

"_Leash kids?"_

"_You still have a lot to learn." The second cuff fell to the counter with a soft clang._

_Keeva rubbed her hands over her wrists, adjusting to the new feeling. "What about Conrad? Isn't he still looking for me?"_

"_I already handled that. Going out today isn't going to hurt anything."_

"_Are you sure?"_

_Tony slipped his keys back into his pocket. "It's going to be fine, Keevs. I promise. You'll enjoy it."_

_Finishing off her cereal, she hesitantly nodded. "Okay. I'll trust you."_

"_Good, now let's go."_

"Have you had a good time shopping with Mr. Stark?" questioned Stasi.

Keeva's attention turned to the woman finishing her nails. "It has been pleasant."

"Well, you are with Tony Stark; it should be," responded Rachel.

Keeva wasn't quite sure how to respond to the remark. The cattiness in the woman's voice was undeniable. She watched as the stylist finished. With a dismissive wave, Rachel then sent Stasi away. The hairstylist led her to another seat so her dyed hair could steam. Keeva wasn't sure how safe the process was, but she was thankful for more silence.

Setting the machine, Rachel turned to Keeva once more. "I wonder why he's being so nice to you. Are you a charity case of his or something? You can't be actually Stark material. Maybe you're a freak he'd like to study. We all know he hasn't been the same since Pepper left him. He always seemed to be one screw away from losing it. Must be why you're around."

Rachel sauntered off, leaving Keeva confused as to why the stylist was being hostile. Maybe she was having a rough day? That was a possibility. Everyone had those. Keeva looked about the place. A large television screen stood across the salon with some sort of talk show on. With a shudder, she looked away. After this morning's television incident, she never wanted to watch the glowing box again.

_Tony had driven into town to take her shopping. The place was quiet early in the day, and held a sort of peaceful ambiance. A few people were seen here and there. No one paid much attention to Stark or her—which she was grateful for. Keeva saw a few business meetings taking place at small cafes dotting the path. Everyone seemed to be slow-paced._

_As the morning progressed, they had shopped at several small boutiques, allowing Keeva to obtain new clothes. After returning to the car briefly to drop off their first set of purchases, they walked down another pathway towards brunch. She looked in windows along this new route, wondering if anything would catch her eye. Stark had allowed himself to be yanked into several stores due to her curiosity at this world._

_One window caught her undivided attention. In it was a large television flashing images. For a few moments, a reporter was talking. The image then gave way to Stark in his armor. Iron Man dominated the screen as some sort of battle took place._

"_They got my good side. How nice of them," Tony commented._

_Explosives in the distance could be seen going off. A mother and child ran through the street to hide in a building. Insurgents rushed at Iron Man with guns. He was targeting a tank which had rolled up. With one small missile from Stark, the armored vehicle exploded. Dust and smoke blanketed the camera._

_The world faded before her eyes as shadows and mist arose in its place. Her heart raced as if she had been running. Her breath caught in her throat. Despite the shadows, this place seemed familiar. Had she been here before? In the distance, the din clash of battle could be heard. Keeva felt the impulse to run._

_She ignored it._

_A large shadow appeared before her. It shifted stances. A claw raised in the air. Lead filled her muscles. The urge to flee shouldn't have been ignored. The creature roared. Her legs could run at any time now. Mist swirled around her. The creature's claws bore down. Arms refused to rise, leaving her open to the attack._

_In the next instant, a bright light blasted past her. It hit the shadow creature. As beast receded into the misty world, red and gold armor landed next to her with a soft thud. Two bright lights looked at her._

"_Keevs? Keevs, are you okay?"_

_The haze ebbed away, releasing its grip upon her. She found herself staring into Tony's eyes. Her jaw dropped as she attempted to catch her breath. Stark shook her, trying to gain her attention._

"_Earth to Keeva. Are you there? Are you okay?"_

_She nodded, feeling her eyes stinging with the start of tears. "Yeah, sorry, I… I was just…"_

"_Just what?" He questioned when she didn't finish._

"_Had a moment?"_

_Tony's head turned slightly to the side. "Are you okay to be out today?"_

_Keeva nodded as she turned from the screen. It was only a dream. Nothing was real about what had just happened. She probably needed sleep and a grip on reality. That was all. However, as Tony led her away, she glanced back at the screen. The hair on the back of her neck rose. She could have sworn something watching her from the shadows._

"Follow me."

Keeva's trance broke immediately. When had the stylist returned? The machine was off her head. Rachel tapped her foot as she waited for her to follow. Rising from the chair, she followed the woman to a rinsing sink.

Keeva allowed her mind to drift as Rachel rinsed her hair off—which she then proceeded to cut and style it. As soon as this was finished, she could go to the book store. That was the one thing she was looking forward too. That world was safe to her. It couldn't hurt her.

She almost leapt out of the chair when Rachel announced she could leave. The sooner she got back to Stark, the quicker she could be among the bound pages.

On her way to Tony, Keeva passed a full length mirror. She paused. Her hair now fell to her shoulders, and held highlights amidst the dark brown. Had it always been brown? Her eyes were still a muddy brown. Had they always looked like that? She looked sickly skinny despite eating better under Tony's roof. She had never looked like that. Had she?

As her mind worked through this new puzzle, she walked over to Tony. He was surrounded by a group of woman; all of which were laughing and smiling. They all appeared to be mentally stable—unlike her at the moment.

As Keeva approached, Tony looked up at her with a smile. He excused himself from the crowd and walked to her.

"You look nice, Keevs."

She nodded slightly in response. Had it been a good idea to leave the house today? Was it a good idea to leave the house in general? Would this be detrimental to her sanity? A crazy nightmare had sought her out, she swore a shadow was stalking her, and now she didn't think she was herself. It was shaping up to be another long day.

Tony turned, leading her out of the salon. "You seem upset. Do you not like it?"

She shook her head. At the moment, she did not want to go over her plea of insanity. However, what Rachel had said was something she could talk about. "What's a charity case? Does it mean the obvious? Or is it one of those things I don't understand?"

"Where did this question come from?" Tony questioned.

"Just answer me."

"I need to know who said it."

"What does it matter?"

"The meaning of it changes depending on who said it."

Keeva sighed as she followed him through the shopping area. "Rachel said I was a charity case." Her eyes flicked to him, hoping to catch his reaction.

"She probably sees you as a damsel in distress."

This idea settled into her mind. "Do you consider me some helpless damsel that needs saving? Is that what I am?"

"Sorry to break it to you, but you _are_ a damsel in distress. I saved you from a castle. I'm pretty much a knight in shining armor. In all sincerity, Keevs, you needed help. That doesn't make you a charity case. It makes you normal. Everyone needs help at some point."

"Why would she call me that?"

"She's jealous."

"Of?"

"At the moment, you. Prior to you, it was Pepper. She _loathed_ Pepper. Before that, it was any girl I associated with."

"Why?"

"Are you being serious with me?" Keeva bit her bottom lip at a failed attempt not to seem confused. "I thought I explained to you that I'm well known around the town."

"I thought you were well known around the world."

"Yeah, that too. Something you need to learn, Keeva, is the fact that I'm considered a playboy."

"Playboy?"

Tony walked to the doors of another shop. "Basically, I'm filthy rich. In the old times, this term was used when describing me. I slept around."

"You whored the town."

"It looks as if I'm rubbing off on you. I think I like this."

Keeva rolled her eyes, feeling better at having something else to think about. "So that Rachel girl, you dated her at some point?"

"No, she just wants to be conquest on mine."

"Conquest? Like in war? When you win something?"

"You used the word whore, and then when it comes to conquest, you're confused? Are you not from Earth?" Keeva huffed as Tony opened the shop door. "No, by conquest, I mean she wants to go on a date with me. That's the nice, clean way to put it."

"There's more than one way to put things? It doesn't just mean that she's some trollop?"

Tony broke out into laughter. "Trollop, that's a good one. And there are always at least two meanings to everything."

"So she could be trying to win the war _and_ be a floozy all at once."

"No, that's not what I meant. I meant words have double meanings."

Keeva nodded as she glanced around the store. "Like when you say you have confidence. To you, it means you believe in yourself and are helpful, but to the world, it means you're arrogant."

"Hey, wait! That's not what I was getting at."

"But you said that everything has a double meaning. That's how it works, right?"

"I don't like where this is going."

Keeva looked over at him; a hint of a smile graced her lips. She didn't respond as her attention turned towards the store. Books lined shelves. This was her paradise. She was glad to be in a place where terrors could not plague her.

~TS~TS~TS~TS~

A smile? Did she actually smile at him? Tony wasn't sure if he had actually seen the gesture, or imagined it. Maybe today was what she needed to open up. He watched her disappear behind a stack of books. Turning to the store's electronic readers, he studied them.

Before Keeva, he didn't have a need to look at one of these. He read, but between Jarvis and his other gadgets, he never really had a need for one of these. With the way the girl devoured his collection however, getting her one of these might not be a bad idea. She would be able to download books whenever she wanted too, instead of going to an actual store.

"What's that?"

Tony startled. "I thought you were looking at books?"

"I am, but what's that you're playing with?"

"It's an E-reader." He brought up a main screen. "You can download books onto this machine and read them anytime you want. What if I made you one of these?"

"Why give up the feeling of turning pages?"

"You can download books anytime you want on to this. It makes it less of a hassle going to a store to buy." Keeva pursed her lips, taking a small step back. She had never acted like that around technology before. "What happened?"

Her eyes flicked to his. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb. You seem off."

She turned from him. "I'm just confused about a lot."

"Such as?"

"Do you ever get the feeling…" Her sentence died. She sighed before starting again. "I was looking in the mirror at the salon earlier. I know it's outlandish, but I couldn't help feeling something's not right. When I looked at my reflection, I felt wrong. It wasn't because of what she had done for me; she did a good job. The mirror, I felt, didn't show me."

"You're probably just getting accustomed to seeing yourself. It happens to the best of us. Sometimes I look in the mirror and think, who _is_ that handsome man. He must be amazing."

Rolling her eyes—which had considerably brightened—she turned toward the shelves. "When you're done boosting your ego, meet me in the mythology section."

He studied her as she quietly walked off again. What was it with her and the myths? Giving one last glance at the E-reader, he followed in the general direction she went. As he looked at the different stands in the store, he couldn't believe what some people would read. Pausing at one stand, he picked up a book.

He had heard of the ridiculous vampire novel. It was the fad amongst teens, and he had never understood why. The cover, however, did catch his attention. A chess piece of a white queen stood front and center, while a red pawn stood in the background. In a way, it reminded Tony of a famous quote. Something about kings and pawns; he couldn't remember it exactly.

Placing the book back down, he shook his head. Pepper would probably have laughed at the fact he picked it up in the first place. It wasn't like him to look at those types of things. As he continued through the store, he found himself curious as to what Pepper would think of the girl. No doubt she could have made Keevs smile by now. Pep knew how to light up a room. She knew how to keep him organized. She knew everything about him.

Tony paused at the end of the mythology section. Keeva was reading through a book—Norse myths, no doubt. Pepper would find her interesting. As he continued to watch Keeva, he could almost imagine her talking to Pepper and laughing. Pepper's strawberry hair in stark contrast compared to the lighter—wait, Keeva had dark brown hair.

She tensed as she ran her hand down a page. Something had caught her attention. Tony walked up beside her and looked down at the page. It held a picture of a large tree and nine circles connected to it. It was the realms again. He remembered a conversation with Jarvis about it some time ago.

"What is it with your fascination in these Norse myths? Do you expect Thor to fly out of the clouds at any moment?"

Keeva looked up at him. "No, all myths are interesting. I think Hades from the Greek myths is just as interesting as anything in Norse legends. Probably more so, actually… You just catch me when I'm looking into Thor and Odin."

"You seem like you're attracted to that whole area."

"It's shocking."

"If that was a crack at a thunder joke, it failed."

Keeva paused momentarily. Her brows knitted together as she thought something through. Her eyes then took on a new light as she rolled them. "Oh, I see what you did there. Crack of thunder. Ha, ha."

Tony smirked as he took the book from her. "I bet I can have one of those E-readers made for you before you can finish this."

"What do I get if you don't?"

"I'll teach you how to drive. And if I win, you have to tell me your real name."

Keeva pursed her lips in thought. After a curt nod, she replied. "Deal."

"Come on, Keevs; let's finish shopping." He turned, leading her toward the register.

~TS~TS~TS~TS~

It was dark when Stark pulled up at his mansion. Keeva was slipping in and out of consciousness in the seat next to him. Turning off the car, he took a deep breath. It was a cool night and the waves could be heard washing on the rocks in the distance. Keeva seemed to notice the car stopped, because she sat up.

"Where are we?"

"Home," Tony replied, unbuckling his seatbelt. Getting out of the car, he walked to the trunk.

Keeva rubbed her eyes with a yawn, then removed her seatbelt. She followed him out of the car and to the trunk. He opened it with a click. "We bought a lot today."

"This is all yours," Stark chided.

"Not all of it," she shot back, grabbing a few bags. "A few things in here are yours."

Tony smirked as he walked toward the front door. Keeva was right. Not everything was hers. He had done a bit of shopping. He needed a few new shirts and pants since returning to work full-time. Opening the door, he froze. Everything was dark. Jarvis didn't greet him.

Keeva slammed into him.

"Sorry," she said. "I wasn't payin—"

"Shh!" His eyes scanned the darkness of the room. He whispered quietly, "Someone's here."

"Hello Tony," said a female materializing from the darkness. "How have you been?"


	9. Red Hourglass Fears

**Hello to those of you reading. I hope your day is going splendid.  
**

**Thank you to lovely Tunes who makes sure I don't make any vital spelling errors. She's amazing. Tune4toons, check her out!  
**

**Enjoy. Thank you for reading and I hope you review. I'd love to hear from you.  
**

* * *

_The safest road to hell is the gradual one—  
The gentle slope, soft underfoot,  
Without sudden turnings, without milestones,  
Without signposts._

—_C.S. Lewis_

"Oh good," Tony snarked at the intruder. "Natalie's decided to pay me a visit. What hole did you just crawl out of to get here?"

"What's wrong, Stark? Are you not happy to see me?"

"I can't say I am. Why are you here?"

"Fury sent me."

"What's ol' Eye Patch want?"

"I would think he's looking for you to consult on something; something that your _guest_ perhaps shouldn't overhear."

Tony studied the assassin—actually named Natasha—and her ever-observant eyes. He didn't miss them flicker to Keeva. Moving forward, he blocked the girl from sight. "You know why he sent you."

"Not exactly. I have my assumptions."

"Why do you believe you're here, then?"

Natasha sighed. "I'm not exactly sure, Stark. Like I said, to have you consult for him, perhaps."

"Does he really think I have Conrad's girl?" Tony wasn't going to waste time on the cover-up.

Her slight hesitance provided an unspoken yes. "Girl?"

"Don't play that card. This is about the girl."

"Fury wouldn't know if you had her or not. You don't exactly keep in touch. S.H.I.E.L.D. knows you were after her."

"I was after Conrad. There's a huge difference."

"We don't keep tabs on you like—"

"Don't give me your line of bullshit, Romanoff. The only reason you're here is because Fury believes I got her. And Fury doesn't send you unless he's certain."

"That's not—"

"Are you really going to lie to me?" Tony moved further into the house. Shopping bags hit the floor with a thud. He could feel Keeva's hesitant steps moving sideways as she skirted the room. Fury was not going to get his hands on her. "And _if_ I have the girl, what business would that be of yours? I didn't see S.H.I.E.L.D. saving the day when Pepper was in trouble. Fury wasn't so kind as to send out a _friend_ then. But those condolence flowers he sent were sure lovely."

"Tony, I—"

"You're only here, _Agent_ Romanoff," Tony broke in, "because Fury knows I have the girl. Well, if you so much as touch her, you will regret it."

Natasha straightened. "I'm under direct orders to bring her in, Stark. She's not safe here."

"I thought you weren't sure why you were here," Tony tossed out casually, sending her words slamming back at her like a semi.

"You're making this more difficult than it needs to be. The girl is _not_ safe here."

"She's not safe with S.H.I.E.L.D."

"The attack wasn't our fault, Stark. We didn't—"

"You're right, you didn't," Tony growled, his patience now thinning. "This argument is over. Now leave."

Not a muscle of Natasha's moved. "Tony, she's government property."

"She's _not_ government property. She belongs to no one. If she ever did belong to someone, that someone would be me. _I_ saved her, _I_ rescued her. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't so much as raise a hand. If you want to play games, Natasha, she belongs to me."

"I will take her by force if I have to. Don't mess with me, Stark."

"I said you're not—" Tony's reply halted as Natasha collapsed to the floor. Smashed down over her head was the—He froze. No. The blood crept from his face—The Barnett Newman.

"Oh God, is she dead?" questioned Keeva. Her brown eyes looked at the painting now wrapped around the unconscious woman's shoulders. She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. "Did I kill her?"

The Barnett Newman.

Pepper had been sick. He told her to wear a mask until she felt better—he was never one for germs. She was angry with him for donating their entire modern art collection to the Boy Scouts of America. She had been unaware of the fact he only had a few months to live—at the time.

"_The Expo is your ego gone crazy," Pepper griped, following him through his workshop._

_Tony picked up a picture of himself as Iron Man colored red and blue. "Wow, look at that," he commented seemingly oblivious to her rant. Picking it up, he looked at her. "That's modern art." He turned and gazed about the room. "That's going up."_

"_Oh, you've got to be kidding me."_

"_I'm gonna put this up right now." He saw a place on the far wall and made for it. "This is vital."_

"_Stark is in complete disarray. Do you understand that—"_

_He mumbled before his jumbled thoughts formed into a complete sentence. "No, our stocks have never been higher—"_

"_Yes, from a managerial standpoint."_

"—_you are misinformed. Well, if it's messy, then let's double back. Let's move on to another…" He glanced at the wall once more, letting his words fade. "Subject…"_

"_Oh, no, no, no! You are not taking down the Barnett Newman and hanging that up!"_

"_I'm not taking it down. I'm replacing it with this."_

"Tony. Tony, did I kill her?"

He focused on the girl before him. She now sat on her knees, next to the body. Her wide, glossed eyes looked up at him with raised brows.

"Did I kill her, Tony?"

He realized she kept repeating herself. Shaking his head, he moved to where Natasha lay. After checking her pulse, he looked at Keeva.

"She's alive."

Keeva rocked back onto her bottom, her knees pulled up to her chin. A soft sigh left her trembling lips. "So I didn't kill her."

Tony shook his head. "She'll be fine. Probably angry when she wakes up, but when isn't she?"

"What do we do with her?"

"I'll…" He reached gingerly for the picture, sliding it off Natasha's shoulders. The picture slightly shivered in his possession. Pepper would be furious. She would never forgive him for the gaping hole in the Barnett Newman.

"Tony?"

A hand lay on his shoulder, but it quickly pulled away. He forced himself to look at her. The picture dropped.

"Are you okay?"

Tony took a steadying breath. One thing at a time. One thought at a time. One… He rose to his feet. Picking up Natasha, he started for the stairs. Footsteps echoed loudly as he descended. Shifting her body to over his shoulder, the glass lit beneath his fingers, and the door swung open.

Natasha's body collapsed on the table with a thud. A raised platform became his next thought. One slow step after another crossed toward the stand. Mechanical arms rose from the sides and attached the Iron Man suit to his limbs. He glanced at the wall next to the door. He should never have removed the picture from there. The world went black.

Breathing was the only sound to reach his ears. The white light of afterlife seemed to flash in his face as the world around him came back into view. Jarvis was still working despite Natasha trying to decommission him—or at least working in his suit, and he assumed that's what Natasha had been trying to do. He moved back toward the body and lifted her into his arms. Turning, he moved to take off. The girl off to his left caught his attention.

"I'll be back."

~TS~TS~TS~TS~

Patience had been something she lacked lately. However, even the workshop seemed to be waiting for his return. The clock seemed to conspire against everyone as she sat on the sofa with bated breath. When would Tony be back?

She shouldn't have hit the woman over the head. Keeva should have been more polite then that, maybe let Tony handle it. With the lingering threat of being taken to S.H.I.E.L.D. however, she couldn't just stand back. Who knew what the woman would have done? Now, Tony was cleaning up her mess. Had something happened to him?

Rising to her feet, she moved back on the path she was slowly wearing into the cement. What was taking so long? Why wasn't he back? Why had he turned silent? She paused.

What had set Tony off? Why had he acted like that? Her thoughts traced back. He was fine until the woman had passed out. Did it have to do with the woman? He had said she was okay. She was just unconscious. His attention hadn't been on the woman.

Keeva bolted upstairs. Her steps ceased in the entry way. She had closed the door when she moved the bags shortly after he left. The picture lay on the floor untouched, however. Her fingers curled around the frame as she lifted it. Glass scattered across the floor. This was what set him off—the oddly colored painting she had disliked. He had said nothing of the picture prior, but he didn't talk about that which meant most. This must be something Pepper loved.

Artwork in hand, she moved back toward the garage. If she had thought about it, she would have found something else to use on the woman. Hitting her over the head with this painting probably wasn't the best idea Keeva had ever had. As she entered the garage, a roaring noise came from the far side entrance.

Red and gold hovered into the workshop, landing on a slightly raised platform with a clunk. The ground beneath the suit shifted as mechanical arms rose and stripped away the metal. Tentatively, she moved forward.

Tony shook his head as the gold mask slipped away. "What's with the face, Keevs?"

She startled, clamping her hanging jaw shut. Much like a boa constrictor, her muscles unwound slowly from their contracted state. Moving closer, the mechanical arms completed their task in freeing Tony from the metal state. "I've… Your suit… Where'd you go?"

Tony stretched and walked to her. "I told you I was going to take care of Natalie."

"I—Wha—You did?"

"Before I left."

Her brows knitted together. Tony walked up beside her. Placing an arm around her, he guided Keeva to the glass table. She shied away from these sudden advances. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Keevs. Are you okay? You almost killed someone." Was he expecting her to laugh? "What happened to you? You're all hum-drum." His eyes fell to the picture clutched in her grip. He paled slightly before swallowing roughly. Taking the picture, he tossed it to the couch. "Come on, Keevs. Look alive."

"You leave so distraught, and now you're back like everything's fine? I—I don't know what to think. Are you going to lose it on me or bottle things up some more?"

"Let's think…" Tony tapped his chin. "I'm going to have to go with the latter. Now, come here. I'll show you where I took Natalie." He pulled her closer.

Keeva yanked out of his grip and stumbled back a few steps back. Was she supposed to deal with this sudden mood swing? What were his motives? She didn't want to handle whatever the night brought. "I'm going to bed."

"Aw, you're spoiling a good day, Keevs." She crossed to the door. "Is it because you thought Natalie might hurt you? Did you think I would allow that?"

Keeva paused. "Is she good or bad?"

"What are you talking about, Keeva?"

She crossed her arms. "She was here on orders to take me in. Is she a good person or a bad one?"

"Is she a good witch or a bad witch?" Tony jested, referencing a movie Keeva couldn't place. She raised an eye brow and he sighed. "She works for the government. She's obviously good."

"That doesn't mean she's good, Stark. There are people that are good who stray into bad, and there are bad who stray into good. But I suppose to some extent that most people play both sides, right?"

"It depends on the person. The smart ones pick a side and stick to it."

"And where do you fall?"

Tony paused. Did he finally understand she was questioning his sudden change? A hand rubbed over his beard. "You'll have to tell me."

Keeva provided him with a curt nod, before exiting.

~TS~TS~TS~TS~

"Tony, you can't place such a heavy burden on your shoulders."

"You worry to much. I can take care of her." Stark sighed, staring at the white ceiling of his room. Behind tinted glass sat the morning sun. Three days had passed since Natasha had broken in.

"But you're using her."

"I'm not using her. What would you know?"

"I know you. You're using this girl as a redeemer."

"That's what you're thinking?"

"She can't save you, Tony. This isn't something she should be used for. And she can't rescue you from this darkness."

"You think that's the reason why I'm keeping her from S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Clearly you need to rethink the reasons you're trapping her here."

"Damn it, Pepper! I'm not using her as some redemption for losing you. And she's not trapped."

"On her account, she wishes to stay, but if she chose to leave would you let her?"

Tony sat up and turned to Pepper. His jaw clenched when he realized she wasn't there. Rising from bed, he walked to the bathroom. Shaky hands turned on the faucet. He then splashed water on his face.

Pepper was wrong. He wasn't keeping Keeva to save himself. That was out of the question. She was the one that needed help. She was the one who had been captured. She was the one who had been abused. If anything, she needed him. If Pepper was here, she would know he wasn't keeping the girl for his own gain. There was nothing he could gain from her.

Keeva could obtain something from him, though. Perhaps she was worried about Conrad. That might have been why she was off. That was always a reoccurring fear in her mind. He could put that at ease if he showed her what he did. Maybe that would cheer her up.

Tony left his room and crossed to hers. Opening the door, he moved to her bed. She lay on her side, curled in sheets, fast asleep. For the first time, he didn't see circles ring her eyes. Maybe he shouldn't wake her.

Keeva jolted as Tony shook her. "Come on, Keevs. I have something to show you."

"Good God, Tony. What the hell?"

He pulled her from her blanket haven as he repeated himself. "I have to show you something."

She stumbled to her feet as Tony led the way. When he reached the workshop, he made for the corner to the left of the door. A long, rectangular, wooden box sat on the counter. He turned to Keeva. She was rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"What's all this about, Stark?" She yawned.

He lifted the cover. "This."

Her face immediately paled as her jaw hung limp. Stumbling backwards, she crashed into Dummy. As long as the robot didn't spray either of them with the fire extinguisher, this reveal would go fine. He focused back on Keeva, tears now trickling down her cheeks, mouth still opened in an 'O' shape.

"Are you crying, Keevs? Are those tears?"

No answer came from her lips. Shock apparently won her over.

This was still better than he planned, and he glanced in the box. There lie Keeva, beaten and bruised, and very lifeless—or at least a mannequin created in her spitting-image. He looked at her. "I got rid of Conrad."

"W-W-W-Wha…" Her eyes looked over the dummy, mostly studying the features of its face. The lines and curves were exactly hers, and it was dressed in the clothes—or lack thereof— she had arrived in. He grabbed the live girl as she swayed. Her face grew paler still and slightly clammy.

"Hey? You okay?" While one arm steadied her, the other cleared the table of papers and tools behind her. He sat her on it. Had she stopped breathing? "Talk to me, Keevs." When more silence ensued, he shook her. "Keeva!"

A ragged gasped was pulled into her lungs as she finally looked at Tony. He moved to stand in between her and the mannequin. "I-I-I… That-that could have been me. Conrad was always pushing things to the lim—" She choked in another breath of air. "—its."

"What did he push to the limits?" questioned Tony as his eye brow rose.

Her eyes fluttered closed while her chest slowly expanded. His hand slid to her wrist. His index and middle finger tightened against the underside, feeling the racing throb. As it slowed to a soft thump, her brown eyes appeared again, watching him.

"You know everything." He hadn't expected her voice to be soft, gentle and steady. "Conrad thought I was something more. I don't know why he thought that. I'm not sure where he gathered that information, either. He used tactics ranging from sleep deprivation to electric stimulation. Nothing worked. He was planning on taking it to a new level. I overheard something about surgery. He was trying to get a reaction out of me by abuse. It failed. Or maybe I did."

"He can't force out of you what's not there, Keevs." He placed his hands on her shoulders, guiding them back and forth, relaxing her body. Her shoulders slumped when he let go. "And he won't hurt you now. He actually believed that was you. I got a lovely note from him about it."

"A note?"

"Yeah, he thinks I had something to do with your death." Tony shrugged.

"He bought it? Just like that?"

"The 'you' in the box behind me was only a test run. The real mannequin was worse. I spooked myself when looking at it. Anyway…" He lightly slapped the side of her face. "Come on. I'm hungry."

After studying him for a moment, the right corner of her mouth pulled up slightly. "Thank you, Tony."

"For the breakfast you're about to cook?"

She slid off the table. "For doing that for me."

"Any time, Keevs. That's what I'm here for."

~TS~TS~TS~TS~

Two days later, Tony entered the main floor in search of Keeva. He had been absent from the house, retreating to his workshop, even sleeping there. Keeva had not surfaced, but his thoughts focused on Pepper and the E-reader, so he hadn't exactly noticed.

He was surprised to find her on the back patio reading. He did know she had finished that mythology book days ago, but never said a word. Why didn't she come to collect? He owed her driving lessons. He was the one who been slacking on his end of the bargain.

Slipping out onto the patio, he took a seat on the lounge chair beside her. After placing a bookmark, she closed the book and turned to him.

"Evening."

Tony looked around. It was evening, wasn't it? How had he missed that? The breeze of the ocean caressed his cheeks as if it knew the internal pain he was in. "Evening."

"How are you?" She watched him carefully. Perhaps she had guessed at his troubles and then told the sea.

"Not bad. I am surprised you didn't seek me out. We could have begun the driving lessons."

Her shoulders rose and fell slowly. It reminded him of the waves of the ocean. "You've been busy."

"Well, I owe you driving lessons."

"In time."

Tony looked into her eyes. He was surprised to find they weren't muddy brown anymore. They had taken on richer color. "What's wrong with you?"

Keeva bit her bottom lip. He wondered why she was so hesitant. "I… I wanted to give you space."

"Space for what?"

She took a breath, then spoke slowly. "You had that confrontation with that agent the other day. Pepper was mentioned. You seemed off. I figured you needed time to recover."

Tony forced a laugh. "I've had close to four years to recover. I'm fine, Keevs."

With the slightly raised brow, he knew she didn't buy it. "You loved her. It's not something that just goes away. You always remember. I wouldn't think _you_ were human if you didn't miss her every day."

Tony sobered, running his fingers over the smooth case in his hands. This was a territory he did not wish to enter. He handed the case to her. "Here, Keevs. I finished it."

She flicked it open, looking over the new contraption. It was in the form of a rectangle, about the size of a large book and as thin as a pen. The transparent screen lit up. "This isn't like the ones at the store, even with your modifications."

"It's more of a tablet. It allows you to do more things than read or watch movies."

Keeva was silent for a few moments. Shifting in her chair, she fully turned to him. "Why did you say S.H.I.E.L.D. was responsible for Pepper's death?"

She was obviously better than when he had showed her the mannequin the other day. Tony sighed. He hadn't meant what he said to Natasha about it. He was solely to blame. "They knew of the threat and did nothing." If he hadn't have left for the trip, he would have been able to save her.

"It wasn't your fault." She shifted uncomfortably, and her voice lowered. "Sometimes bad things happen. Sometimes, we can't help it. Sometimes…"

Silence radiated through the room. Tony thought he could hear the clock ticking from the house. The world slipped from his view as eyelids plunged him into darkness. "Sometimes we have to find ways to let go."

Keeva rose suddenly, causing him to look up at her. She clutched the tablet to her chest. "Thanks for making this, Stark."

"That's what I'm here for, Keevs." Tony watched as her soft footsteps crossed to the door. She paused.

"And Tony?" She didn't immediately turn to him. When she did, she seemed to be phrasing something in her mind. After a moment, she spoke. "I can't save you. I cannot rescue you from this darkness you're in. Having me around doesn't change the fact that you need to mourn Pepper."

A jagged breath crossed his lips, as she turned and walked inside. Icy claws raced through his veins. How did she quote Pepper?


	10. I'll Follow You

**Hope everyone's**** doing well. Anything you recognize is obviously not mine. Thanks to Tune's for looking this over for me!**

**Hope you enjoy. Leave a comment/concrit. The blue box doesn't bite!  
**

* * *

"Poor old Jim's white as a ghost  
He's found the answer that we lost  
We're all weeping now,  
weeping because  
There ain't nothing we can do  
to protect you…"

-Nick Cave

Keeva took small, slow steps into the workshop. The walls vibrated; music drowned the entire garage. She was surprised the pictures hadn't crashed to the floor. Tony sat at his computer tinkering with what appeared to be 3D diagrams of his suit. She bit her cheek, taking another step toward him.

Tony looked up at her with a smile. His hand crossed to the right of his desk where he turned the volume down with a flick of his finger. "What brings you into my glorious presence?"

Keeva shrugged; her lips pursed to the right side. It had been awkward between them since the assassin had broken into the house three weeks ago. The whole picture incident had obviously put Tony in a melancholy mood. She had attempted to make amends, but he shrugged her off. Since the failed apology, she had tread carefully whenever he was around, making every attempt possible to stay out of his way.

This morning, however, he seemed to come out of the dark cloud. He emerged from his workshop to eat breakfast with her and had spoken with her. Keeva took it as a good sign that he smiled at her now. With a hint of a smile on her own face, she started dancing to the upbeat song still playing in the background.

Tony raised a questioning eye brow at first, but soon rose from his desk and approached her. Keeva paused and looked up at him. Her hands crossed behind her back, and a slight pink colored her cheeks. He held out his hand. "How about a real dance?"

Keeva bit her bottom lip. "I don't know… I've never danced."

"I couldn't tell," ribbed Tony. She narrowed her eyes, causing him to smile slightly. "I'll lead like always, don't worry."

"I do worry when you lead. It could blow up a facility."

"You are nowhere in my league of jokes. Let's dance. Jarvis, turn the song."

"As you wish, sir."

Stark placed one of Keeva's hands on his shoulder, then slid his hand to her waist. His other hand grabbed hers. "Ready?" Keeva shook her head as the music started. Within the first few steps, she tripped and fell into him.

"Sorry," she said, pushing herself back from him.

"Oh, did you not hear me the first time?" he snarked. "Let me lead."

With a roll of her eyes, Keeva took his hand again, put her other hand on his shoulder, and followed his moves as they started over. She found that it was much easier to dance when she followed—though she didn't care for the smirk on his face. He was so arrogant sometimes.

"See, doesn't it work better when you're trying not to control the situation?"

Keeva pulled back from Tony, and crossed her arms.

"You don't like dancing, fun-sucker?"

"Three's hard to dance with."

"Three?"

"Yeah. You, me, and your ego." She meandered to the computer. He was definitely working on his suit. Did he always update his armor? Tony snapped his fingers causing the screens to change to a desktop background. She looked up at him. "What are you working on?"

"Nothing of consequence."

Keeva straightened, and her eyes narrowed slightly. What was he hiding? "Oh, so that wasn't a new suit?"

"Does it matter, Keeva?"

The bite in reply made her take a step back. "Does it not?"

Tony shook his head. "Not to you."

"I…" Her hand rubbed the back of her neck. Her mouth hung open, hopelessly trying to find words. Where had this sudden attitude change come from? Was he still angry with her for the picture? She swallowed to buy herself time.

"What do you need?"

"I'm sorry about destroying your picture." It was a weak response, but how could he still be mad?

"You've said."

Keeva gave a curt nod as air seemed to evade her lungs. Her gaze strayed to the floor.

"Is there something else?"

She shook her head. Without looking at him, she left the workshop. Apparently his attitude had gone from melancholy to snippety.

_~TS~TS~TS~TS~_

It was that time again. While he always dealt with them, the demons were especially present at this time of year, whispering their thoughts and wishes. They manifested themselves into beings and followed each footfall. Years past, he obeyed. During this past year, however, they had seemed to scatter only to return in full force with the gravity of Pepper's words.

She had said he was using the girl. He hadn't thought he was, but Keeva had stated the same thing mere days later. Was there a way he was using her? Was he expecting her to save him? Was that why he was keeping her here?

The demons certainly didn't like her. Whenever she appeared they grumbled and fled to the recesses of his mind. They whispered plots against the girl, trying to force his hand to rid the house of her. For whatever reason, they seemed to loath her presence.

Tony had considered an option or two concerning the girl. He originally planned to stop contact with her. If he didn't talk to her then Pepper's comment would be null. However, they lived in such close proximity; a cease in communication wouldn't work. His second idea had been to take the advice, and send her on her way. He couldn't bring himself to toss her out when she had done nothing to warrant such actions.

Tony looked up to see Keeva walk into the living room. The demons snarled as they retreated into the background. He appreciated the moments when she surfaced—in those instances he could hear only his thoughts.

She didn't appear to notice him slouched on the sofa, with his left arm raised and encased by a gauntlet—stripped of the outer red armor, revealing the interworking. His right hand held a screw driver which stopped mid-turned as she caught sight of him. Her body straightened as her muscles became as rigid.

"Morning." Hours seemed to tick by without a response from her.

"Hello," she finally replied.

"Sleep well?" Her head gave a small bob. The raccoon eyes told a different story. "There's yogurt in the fridge if you don't want to cook."

The tool in his hand slowly rotated as he followed her movements through the kitchen. She pulled out a yogurt, then started for her room. "Keeva."

He watched her freeze. After a hesitant second, she turned to him.

"Why are you so mute?"

It took a few moments for her response. "I… I haven't much to say."

"Come sit." He motioned to the spot on his left. She stepped back. The screw driver slid in his grip as his brows slightly rose.

In the backward step, all the gears of the progress clock seemed to grind to a halt. What had possibly happened that destroyed months of progress? What had spooked her back into her shell? Had it been that dark visitor again?

The entire moment seemed to balance on a landmine. One step either way and the situation may very well explode. Was their amity that fragile? Tony watched as she took a breath and slowly made for the couch. Perhaps what he thought was months of progress actually amounted to nothing.

Keeva sat herself next to him, her legs drawn up under her. Her eyes searched him, but showed none of the hesitation in which she approached.

"You okay, Keevs?"

One brow rose, as she continued to watch him. "Yes."

"What's with the ice?"

"Ice?'

"You know, your personality."

Keeva shrugged as a spoonful of yogurt entered her mouth.

"You're just acting odd." Was she up to something? Regaining his grip on the tool, he moved on to another screw on the gauntlet. "How do you like your tablet?"

She watched as he worked. "It's nice. I miss turning the pages of real books, but I have yet to run out of things to read. I didn't realize that I could watch things as well. That's pretty neat."

"Well, I did mention you could watch movies on it. Shows how much you listen to me. In any case, I'm glad you like it. I'm sure that can keep up with your habit." He flexed his hand before moving onto another screw.

"Habit…?" She moved towards him to see the next place he worked on, her attention sliding from him to the metal.

He smirked at her position. She wouldn't touch him, so her body was contorted to an angle in which she balanced on her knees, while sucking in her stomach and leaning slightly over him. "Your book habit."

"Oh…"

Tony put down the screw driver as he flexed his left hand again. She seemed unbalanced. His smirk grew as he drew a breath. "Keevs!"

She started. Losing her balance, she fell forward onto him. The yogurt slipped out of her hand, hitting the floor like a bomb, leaving a trail as it rolled away.

Tony chuckled as he helped Keeva into a sitting position again.

"That's not funny." Rising from the couch, she headed to the kitchen and gathered paper towels.

His laughter halted as his heart seemed to flip. Pain shot through his body as he felt a bold demon emerge from the shadows. He ignored the darkness. His attention turned back to Keeva who had moved to the yogurt covered ground. "It was funny."

She had halted mid-swipe. Her wide eyes searched him. Did she know what he felt?

"Keevs, what's wrong with you?" Tony got to his knees, and began to help her clean the mess.

She remained silent until the floor was once again clean. Taking a seat back on the couch, she looked at his gauntlet. "Making a new suit?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but found all words lost. The presence of the demon was now at his side as Keeva sat on the other side. It growled gently in his ear, _Should you honestly tell her?_ He stiffened slightly. _Is she trust worthy?_ He had heard them last night while Keeva was in the garage. They had snarled in protest of the dance, and gained a foothold when she looked at the suit on the screen.

Tony realized that silence crept between them. He had to respond. There was no reason why she shouldn't know he was at least working on a suit. He attempted again to speak.

A clawed hand covered his mouth. _She won't agree. She'll side with Pepper in this matter. She always sides with Pepper._ How could she always side with Pepper when she didn't even know her? _Ah, mortals are fickle._ It laughed gently in response. What was that supposed to mean?

He watched feebly as she rose from the couch and retreated from the room. He tried to reach out, to call out, only to find his muscles frozen stiff. The demon's presence gained a stronghold as it motioned for a few of its comrades to come out of the shadows.

The one next to him rose, walking on clawed toes to the kitchen. It stood at least seven feet in height. The creature was black as if nothing existed in its place, and seemed to meld into shadows at times. Two long arms with razor-clawed hands hung at its side, but what sent shivers up Tony's spine was the head. A pair of ram horns adorned the top of the skull. The face was eerily human, but the eyes smoldered red like dying embers.

Tony had never witnessed such a being. In all his years of drinking—and even recent years of missing Pepper—never had such a being come into his path. Tony Stark did not deal with things like these. In his world, he hadn't exactly believed they existed this realistically. They tended to be more metaphorically.

The demon opened a cupboard and pulled a bottle. Crossing the floor to Tony, it sat on the table before him, grabbing an empty glass from the table. Scotch colored the glass. When full, the demon presented it to the man of iron with a grin revealing its sharp teeth. _Here, friend. Have a drink._

_~TS~TS~TS~TS~_

Keeva was seated on the patio, basking in the warm rays of morning. A bag of puffed Cheetos nuzzled against her right thigh and a sweating glass of water sat on the table to her left. The pool lazily lapped the sides a few feet from where she sat. In the distance, the ocean waves rolled slowly without a care in the world. Fingers tapped the screen of the tablet, her mind solely focused on what Tony had been hiding. He acted so odd lately—especially in the living room last week when he suddenly lost his voice. She was determined to figure out what he was up to.

Using the tablet, she sifted through files on the Stark server. If he had created this tablet, and Jarvis spoke through it, then gaining access to files should be available. She had been working on this theory for a few hours now. While she had found several interesting files on the business server, she had yet to find anything substantial.

In her glance of the suit, the 3D rendering had been incomplete. The design had missing parts and other portions emphasized. Pieces had been scattered across data as if they were even unsure of their purpose. Why was he attempting a new design? What about it was he trying to change? Why was he hush about it?

Keeva paused. Of course the suit was _his_ design. It was in no way apart of Stark Industries. That was probably why she couldn't find it. She was on the wrong server.

Pressing a few buttons brought up his private server, but it did not grant her access. Keeva strummed her fingers against her thigh. She was normally on his server when she downloaded, so what changed?

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, miss?"

She startled as he spoke through the house. "Can you talk to me through the tablet only?"

"As you wish." She relaxed when his voice came through the machine on her lap.

"Jarvis, why can I not access the private server I'm normally on?"

"Are you looking for something in particular, Miss Keeva?"

Keeva paused. Would he tell Tony? "Not really. I am just looking around at a bunch of things."

"Is that why you have attempted to gain access to classified files?"

Why did computers have to be so smart? Well, she could just tell him she was looking for files on her. It was a believable lie. "I was just browsing for information on myself. Also, possibly download a few more books. Can I have access to the server again?"

"Due to your prior searches, miss, it does not appear you are looking for your files."

She paused. "I have files?"

"Yes, miss."

Tony had files on her? What type of files? Why was he hiding these things? "Jarvis, bring up everything you have on me." She watched as the AI complied. Maybe being upfront would grant her access to the suit files. "Also, I want to see Tony's files on his new suit."

"Those are classified."

"I don't care, Jarvis. Bring them up."

"You do not have authorization to view those files."

She sighed as her lips pressed together. Why did Tony lock those files? He was acting so odd. A gentle ding registered that the download was complete. After clicking on the file, a slew of information filled the screen.

Keeva began to sort through the information on Conrad, before settling in to read Project Diamond.

What was the power source he was talking about? Did he think it to be her? Or was she the key? Her eyes scanned the document several times in a maddening attempt to figure out this crazy man's plan. As she browsed over a particular section again, her breath lodged in her throat.

"…_the nine realms have been both revered and terrified by the possible power that may be contained within. Unknown to most of the worlds at this time, we are housing what we believe it to be on the world known as Earth. This is in an attempt to keep it hidden until its full potential can be assessed. Project Diamond is said to hold enough raw power to open portals to other worlds and stop gods. This makes it both an asset and an issue for the nine dimensions. What may be considered as all the power in the universe, contained in one place, may be the worst and best thing to ever happen."_

A flash of blue crossed her mind. Goose bumps speckled her entire body. Ice formed on her bones, causing her to shiver as the hair on her neck rose. She knew something frightened her, but she couldn't remember what. The memory sat at the corners of her mind, placing a toe in sight for a moment before retreating into the dark again.

Shadows once more appeared before her eyes. She struggled to get away. The creature dug its claws into her chest. A searing pain flamed in her torso.

In a moment, she was on her feet. A thud sounded next to her. A shatter broke the air a heartbeat later. Her lungs screamed for assistance as she desperately attempted to pull in air. The flames spread through her body as oxygen rapidly vanished. Why couldn't she breathe? What was hindering her?

The ground rushed her as hands and knees met it in a wild attempt to save her head. The familiar burning squeeze on her lungs terrified her. She hadn't felt like this since being in captivity. Blue flashed across her vision again.

Keeva crawled forward. Her mind stood on the verge of believing she lay on a pyre. Her entire body screamed in pain. Without realizing it, she fell into her destination. The water immediately consumed her and her lungs expanded. Arms and legs flailed. A new burning overtook her lungs. Kicking, she righted herself. Her head broke the surface. Coughing and sputtering, she attempted to bring in fresh air.

A few heart stuttering moments later, her hands moved to her face. After wiping water from her eyes, she searched the area. Her tablet rested safely on the lounge chair. The table next to it seemed to be alright. The poor glass hadn't survived. Moving to the side of the pool, she climbed out. What had just happened?

_~TS~TS~TS~TS~_

As days drew closer, the demons grew bolder. They followed him to the one place that was his refuge. In the depths of the house, they bravely strutted, knowing they had complete control of the man.

Tony could not argue with them; he didn't want to argue. They controlled his every thought. With each sip, they grew stronger. With each sip, the lines between reality and fantasy blurred. With each sip, he slowly retreated from pain.

The largest beast—the first to approach—sat next to Stark as if they were old friends. A smirk lined his lips as he continually filled the glass. It growled softly. _This isn't so bad. It's nice not to feel sadness._

Tony nodded in agreement as he swirled the amber liquid. "Why is it that I drink again?"

_Because you enjoy it. It is a good thing._

"That's a reason to drink?"

_It makes you happy._

Tony smiled. "I'll definitely drink to that." He placed the glass to his lips once more.

_~TS~TS~TS~TS~_

Two days later, Keeva stood on the edge of the once forbidden staircase. What would Tony think when she approached him concerning the files on her? Would he be open to discussion? Would he see through the reason she was asking him?

After reading about Conrad's research, she had wandered her way into the past of Pepper. Pepper had been Tony's assistant for years. Somewhere in the mix, it had grown into something more. At one point, Tony had almost died due to the reactor. In the midst of dealing with his impending last breath, a Russian man had appeared on the scene with the arc reactor technology and a hatred for the dying hero. Somehow, Tony had created a new reactor which saved his life, and he took down the Russian.

In the final battle, Tony saved Pepper and they finally got together—abruptly ending his playboy reputation. Six months before her last breath, they had gotten engaged. Newspapers and tabloids exploded with the news. It was said to be one of the fastest spreading stories of all time.

Tragedy struck when a villain named Mandarin entered the scene. Iron Man was off saving lives while the Mandarin was at home taking the life of the one Tony cared most for. Keeva felt her eyes sting when she read the subsequent reports. The papers transformed from happy memories into heartbreaking hearsay of the aftermath. Rumors ran rampant with theories about her death. Pepper's burial had been private. Stark disappeared from the spotlight. The company lost steam. Iron Man dropped out of sight for almost two years.

After finishing the tragic story, Keeva had resolved to ask Tony questions. The reports only told so much truth. It spoke nothing of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s lack of involvement. The information on Mandarin was slim. The reason Tony couldn't save Pepper seemed lost in a pile of rumors and speculation. In Tony's disappearance, the articles had lashed out at him, ridiculing him and placing the blame on his shoulders. They were out for blood and the silent hero didn't defend himself.

Her plan was to ask about herself, then switch to questioning about Pepper once into the conversation. With this in mind, she took soft steps, descending into the cave Tony retreated too.

It had been his one place of safety when the world was out to destroy him. Despite the Hell she had gone through, she couldn't imagine the unbearable pain he faced every day. He had rescued her, but no one could rescue him. Taking a deep breath, she tapped the code into the lit up box and entered.

Keeva looked at him. His eyes darkly circled like the undead and bloodshot, his face unkempt, and his hands shaky. When had he gotten to this stage? How had she missed the signs? Today did mark four years, but this condition had taken longer to achieve. He took another sip of the amber-colored liquid. Her stomach twisted.

She crossed to where he worked. His attention turned to her as he swayed back a tad. A brow rose. Had he not noticed her entrance? Mostly likely not in that state.

"Keev?"

She hesitated. She had never seen him like this. Could he even function? Would he understand anything she said? He smiled at her and swayed to the right.

"Are we playing a game?"

"Game?" What kind of question was that? This wasn't a game. He had on that gauntlet again, and he probably didn't even remember her name.

"Where we each decide…" She watched as he took another sip. He had to put down the glass. "…not to talk to each other."

There had never been a game. Keeva shook her head. "This isn't a game, Tony."

"Sure looks like one." He held up his gauntlet, and abruptly switched topics. "Isn't it lovely? Made it… myself."

"Put it down," she responded softly. She watched as he shrugged.

"It could be a game," he said reverting back to the original topic. She watched the amber liquid swirl in the glass he clutched in his right hand. "Could be fun."

Keeva didn't know how he felt, but she did know what plagued him. She had felt them before. The demons had locked him in, holding him down, suffocating him. If they had their way they would do something foolish with his gauntlet. "Should you be operating your suit in a condition like this?"

He smiled. Her face remained solemn. "I'm fine."

Keeva stepped forward, glancing to the gauntlet. "I don't think you are."

"Do you think this is going to go off?"

She took another step forward. With any luck neither of them would be hurt. "You're not aware."

"I'm not?" He chuckled. If she could just get to him, she could coax the gauntlet off, and things would be more manageable. She paused as he pointed it at her. He made a 'pew' noise, and she couldn't brace herself for the pain she felt next. She was slammed in the chest by a blast. Flying back, she sailed through the glass, crashing into the cement wall with a thud.

_~TS~TS~TS~TS~_

Softly, they called_. Come with us._

He took another sip. Time seemed to disappear as did any emotion. The gauntlet on his left arm made him chuckled. It looked as if it _was_ his arm. He was Terminator. If he looked at the mirror, his eyes would be shining red. The demon growled in his ear. Keeva was approaching his desk. When had she entered?

"Keev?"

She paused when he said her name, and did not reply. Was this the silent treatment again? Their entire existence in each other's worlds seemed to revolve around this shrieking lack of conversation. The beast next to him continued to growl as it placed a hand on his right shoulder.

Stark questioned if it was a game. He was used to these; she played them all the time. He took another sip, allowing the liquid to slide down his throat. He bantered with her. Or maybe it was the demon speaking for him? He wasn't quite sure. His attention turned toward his gauntlet.

He pointed it towards her. Tony was proud of the suit he had created so long ago. Pepper had been proud too. At least, he thought she was. Who wouldn't be proud? Keeva didn't appear to be.

He swirled the scotch in his glass. He smiled at her misplaced dread.

The demon snorted and whispered, _How many times have you saved lives in the throes of alcohol?_

The beast was right. He had saved countless lives while intoxicated. At one point, he even held a birthday party where he wore his suit. There hadn't been any injuries. Keeva didn't seem to agree. She didn't believe he was fine. Of course he was fine. He was Tony Stark.

_Foolish girl, _the demon growled in response to her panic. It didn't think she should be concerned. The beast was right; she shouldn't be. He chuckled. She thought it was going to go off.

_Kids always pretend they're you and shoot at people. Why not show her?_ That was a good idea. He pretended to shoot it at her while making a 'pew' noise. A much louder 'pew' shattered the quiet garage. He dropped his glass as the gauntlet went off. When he finally caught the progression of where the beam had gone, Keeva was shakily standing to her feet. Glass trickled from her, reminding him of when Conrad had her and she was drenched in water.

Keeva limped to him, favoring her right leg. He gave her an apologetic smile as she stood next to him. Her hand reached for her chest as her eyes slid shut momentarily.

"Well, Skylar, I didn't expect it to go off."

Her eyes appeared once again as her brow rose. Her voice came out in a whisper. "I'm Keeva. My name is Keeva."

Tony nodded. He thought he heard soft, quick puffs of air coming from her. "That's what I said. I said Keeva." He turned to his glass and righted it, then reached for the Scotch bottle.

"Tony, no." The words confused him as they reached for him in the darkness. Despite the effects of his drink, clarity began moving through the mist. The world left him; he felt alone. His heart began to tense. Four years. Four long years. Not a day went by when she didn't cross his mind at some point. Pepper ceased to exist now.

The bottle gently slid away from him. A demon snarled for him to grab it. He didn't listen. He couldn't listen. They controlled his every action and he allowed it. He hoped by listening, eventually they would rid all pain of Pepper, but the simple fact remained.

Pepper was gone, and he would never see her again in this world. How long did he have to remain without her?

The fact his liver kept up with him had sorely disappointed him for years. He had hoped that by now it would have given out; allowed him to enter where Pepper now dwelled. Instead of providing him the sweet release of death, it seemed to work against him.

The beast at his right sunk its claws into his shoulder. _Come with us. We will end this for you._

His head slightly turned toward it. In spite of his growing resentment of them, he had no strength left to fight. Besides, the demon promised him something he wished for. He heard a few more gently calling to him, each requesting he follow. They promised to get rid of the pain. His mind traced its way into the depths again. Their words seemed to comfort him, although a feeling of dread was layered underneath.

He then felt an arm slide around his mid-back helping him rise. It surprised him, and sent away the ridiculous notion of believing another of the demon's lies. The arm—safe guard—held him to this world. It grounded him in a time, when the demons sought to take him. They had always called to him, trying to ease the pain. The safeguard protected and led him away. The demons scattered to the shadows.

A pill slid roughly down his throat. Icy water followed, numbing the burning in his esophagus, but it did nothing to help his eyes—still in Terminator mode. He tried to catch his surroundings. Was he still in his house? Where was he going? Who was leading him? Before long, he was swallowed in a silk ocean. It flowed over him, taking him under where no one could reach, not even the demons.

Darkness slowly placed a claim on him. The demons stayed at bay.

He was alone, and wanted to keep it that way. The darkness allowed him to exist where nothing could reach. The demons weren't howling in his ears. The pain wasn't constantly ebbing at him. The daily woes of life seemed non-existent. How many times had he sought for this, but been denied? Could this be the sweet release of death? He would welcome and embrace it.

When her strawberry-hair made an appearance, however, his heart felt the all too familiar rip. Lungs froze mid-breath as he waited for her to move.


	11. Into The Dark

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_If you're going through hell,_  
_keep going. _  
_~Winston Churchill_

Hands stretched to reach her. Desperation took over. Breaths came in short bursts. Everything inside Tony lunged, fighting to close the space between them. He had to catch her; it was imperative he stop her from leaving. Lurching forward, he found his limbs weighed down by lead. Gradually, she expanded the distance. Every step forward meant more steps away. His hands stretched out, frantic to touch her again.

Before him was the only one to ever captivated him; the only he had ever loved. She had taught him about life, accepted his arrogance, and loved him despite it. After spending so long as a playboy, she had unknowingly won him over with her feisty spirit and loyalty. He had felt dead without her; a ghost forced to exist in a grey world. She couldn't leave again.

Darkness swallowed her. His jaw slacked. Breaths rushed out in soft spurts. How could she leave? His arms collapsed to his sides. He was too late again. Was he in Hell? Was he to watch this replay for all eternity? He started as two arms wrapped themselves gently around his shoulders.

"Don't chase it, Tony."

Those words caressed over him like silk sheets, calming him. The voice was one he would never forget. A chin gently settled on his shoulder. It didn't make sense. "I have to."

"Not everything is as it appears."

His eyes looked to the right, and his head slowly followed suit. "Pep…?"

A gentle smile crossed her soft lips. "Tony."

"If you're Pepper… Who was that?" His eyes glanced back to where the ghost had occupied moments before.

"I said, not everything is as it appears."

Tony's brow rose. "What's your full name?"

"Tony." She glowered.

"No, that's my name. Answer the question, imposter!" he quipped.

"Virginia Potts."

"What were you employed as?"

"Your assistant. Anymore ridiculous questions?"

"These questions aren't ridiculous. How do I know you're the real Pepper? You could be one of those demons, or I could just be talking to myself."

"I told you not to take the Barnett Newman from the wall. That other picture was absurd. If you hadn't been trying to boost your ego—"

A soft smile crossed his lips. "I was dying, Pep. I wanted you to have something to remember me by."

"I would have remembered you by the Barnett Newman. And the fortune you left to me."

Tony chuckled softly. Being in her presence was all he ever wanted. It felt like listening to a great symphony, and being at peace as the melody lulled you to rest. "Are you upset about it?"

"The fortune? Not at all."

"The picture. Do you care it's gone?"

"Does my opinion matter?"

"Not in the least. It was my decision."

Pepper smiled. "Keeva needed to protect herself. She can't always rely on you. Natasha's always been a bit forceful, so it's about time that someone put her in her place."

He studied her blue eyes. "How do you know Keevs?"

Pepper glanced over her shoulder before lowering her voice. "I keep telling you, Tony. Things are not what they appear. When will you ever learn to listen to me?"

"When do I ever listen to anyone?" He turned, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Her face sobered. "This isn't a joke, Tony. There are some serious issues going on."

"What do you mean?"

"Tony, you can't believe everything you see or hear. There are more forces at work that you don't realize."

"You mean other than the demons I saw, or that dark man who was talking to Keevs?" He chuckled. "I highly doubt those things are the cause for mayhem."

"It's not just about them."

Tony shook his head. "Then what are you talking about, Pep?"

She cast a wary glance about. "I was sworn not to say anything."

"Find a loop-hole then."

"Talking with you _is_ a loop-hole."

Tony ran a hand down the side of Pepper's face. She was dressed in white. It was fitting for the situation. "None of it matters though, right? You are here with _me_."

"Now is not the time to boost your ego, Stark."

"Oh," he drawled. "I must have done something to warrant being called Stark."

Pepper pulled back. "Tony, this isn't some joke. You're in danger."

Tony stiffened. The dark man had told Keeva the same thing weeks ago. "What's going on, Pepper?"

Pepper glanced over her shoulder. An outline moved in the shadows. She looked back at him. "You need to dig, Tony. Dig fast. And move on."

He glanced to the next obstacle arising from the darkness. That demon from earlier lurked at the edge, waiting for something. He turned back to Pepper. "Move on?"

"Let me go."

His jaw slacked; eyes widened. "W-What?"

"You can't keep existing this way. It's not healthy for you," Pepper said with a shake of her head. "Do you remember being captive in Afghanistan?"

Tony nodded. What type of question was that? Of course he remembered. Who wouldn't remember three months of hell?

"Do you remember what Yinsen said to you before he died?"

He took a step back. How did Pepper know that? He had never told her. He had never told anyone. "He said…" Tony paused as he swallowed roughly. "He told me not to waste my life. How do you know that? Where did you find that out?"

"It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you not waste the gift he gave you. You can't keep this up, Tony. You can't keep refusing to live. You can't end up back here over and over again. It's time you moved on, and accepted that life has gone on. Just because you refuse to move doesn't mean the world hasn't."

"I don't know how to live without you."

Pepper smiled. "The infamous Tony Stark needs someone?"

"This is serious, Pepper."

"When you want it to be, it is. I spent years trying to have serious conversations with you, but you responded with jokes and humor." With a roll of her eyes, her face sobered again. "You have to live without me. You have to fight. The world needs Iron Man. You can't abandon them. And you can't believe everything you hear or see."

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Pepper disappeared in a wisp of smoke before him. His eyes widened as he stumbled forward, searching the area she had occupied moments prior. No trace remained, no sign that she had even been with him. A soft clicking to his right caught his attention.

The demon closed the distance between them. With Pepper gone, it apparently had free reign of the area, no longer confined to the shadows all around them. Each click of its claws signaled a tick, like the second-hand of the clock. Ten clicks passed before it stood before him.

"She should have shut her mouth, the tramp," it snapped. "The bitch knew better than to speak."

"What have you done with her?" Tony demanded, moving forward.

The demon looked down at him with a sardonic smile. "The little man feels brave. You shouldn't be worried about your angel returning to heaven, where we have no claim on her. Oh no, you should be worried about those still alive."

~TS~TS~TS~TS~

Keeva sat on a cloud in the corner of Tony's room. Whoever had designed this chair, she wished to personally thank. It was easy on her back, which still screamed in distress. Being limited in her motion, she placed her back gingerly against the cushion while her feet rested on the ottoman before her. Her lungs took in small, rapid breaths. If she attempted to expand her chest, the muscles on the front of her torso seized up.

The sun had long since set behind darkened glass. The sound of silence echoed through the house. Tony had been asleep for hours now. Keeva had remained seated near him, drifting between the clutches of sleep and agonizing wakefulness. Her mind slowly fogged with pain and insomnia, yet refused to rest.

As her mind traveled away from her control, she could feel the vultures circling to attack. Based on Tony's earlier actions, she guessed he knew these vultures all too well.

Keeva startled with a whimper as her back seized. Coldness crept into her veins, starting at the extremities of her body, working their way inward. Her heart picked up tempo; the hair on the back of her neck rose in fear. Her eyes searched the room, looking for the source of her distress. Near the door, the dark man stood watching her.

"What do you want?" she asked softly, the fight long gone from her voice.

"To see how you were holding up." Her heart seized as he drew near. "Have you considered leaving? Time is drawing to a close for your new friend."

"I highly doubt a few demons are going to kill the man." Something seemed to settle over her body, like a heavy tarp, holding her down. At this point, she couldn't fight it. All remaining strength focused on speaking with this dark person.

He slid a hand into his pocket. "Suit yourself, little one."

Her body tensed at the term. A round of painful tremors ripped through every fiber. With the stitches coming undone, would she fall apart? "Don't call me that."

"You were called it before."

She knew that. She also knew that he shouldn't call her that. "It's not a name for you. You have no right saying it."

"And yet you cannot remember who actually called you that."

Keeva looked away. The man had a point. "What's your name?"

"Ah, a change of subject. That's delightful." He sat on the edge of the ottoman. "Tell me, are you having a good time with Iron Man?"

She tossed a glance his way, but made no attempt to respond.

"The silent treatment." He smiled. "You enjoy this game."

Her eyes narrowed on him. "You're the demon feeding him all those brainless notions."

"Calm down," he said, raising his hands in an attempt at surrender. "I have never done such a thing. I am not the lead demon. Can you see him?"

Keeva shook her head. "I see only my own."

"As it should be."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I was simply making an observation. It is unusual for one to see demons that are not their own. In any matter, I do wonder why you're following him to Hell. The dark has never suited you."

Keeva felt the slow crumble of her defenses as exhaust trickled in. She wouldn't doubt that he knew she was weakened. He seemed to know everything. "How am I following him to Hell?"

"You cannot tell me you do not sense them circling."

"That doesn't mean they came from him."

"That's true in its simplest state."

"He spurred them on, you mean."

"Exactly."

An eye brow lifted as she studied him. "Why are you here? Why are you being kind?"

"You seem to think I'm a monster after one meeting."

"You told me Tony was going to die."

He shrugged. "Comes with the territory."

"You are not the angel of death."

"Never said I was."

Unease crept in like smoke at his demeanor. He may be saying all the right things, but he couldn't truly mean them. "If I ask you to leave, will you?"

"If you truly want me to."

"I want you to leave."

The dark man rose from the stool. "If that is your request. Allow me to offer this advice as I take my leave. Be careful about who you trust. The world is full of backstabbers and liars. You should know this by now, but I thought I'd remind you." He then disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

Keeva let out a huff. Every part of her body ached. Her eyes closed, allowing her to slip into nothing.

~TS~TS~TS~TS~

"Are you threatening Keeva?" Tony questioned.

The beast smiled. "Why would I threaten her? I have no need. She is self-destructing."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Self-destructing?"

With clawed hands behind his back, the demon circled slowly as if rewinding a clock. "You must think the girl hasn't been through this before. She chose this path. She may not realize it, but every action of hers led to this point."

Pepper's warning came back to him. It would be foolish to trust a demon. "You expect me to believe anything you say?"

"You think me to be a liar?"

"You certainly don't tell the truth."

A chuckle broke through its teeth. "You care for that girl without even knowing her. You do not know the things she is capable of."

"In my experience, it's better to trust the light than the dark."

"You have not lived that way. I seem to recall many a night we shared together."

"Nights I never wanted."

"Who put the bottle in your hand, Stark? I just follow the requests of the heart."

"Just because I like to have a good time does not mean that I want your involvement. I don't recall ever sending you an invitation. If I catch you lay a hand—claw—on Keeva, I will find a way to end you."

"End a demon?" The beast roared with laughter. "You, little man, are much more than I could have ever hoped for. You seem to think it is her I am after."

"Then what are you here for?"

"You. However, that will come in time. While you walk this Earth, I will provide you with some sensible information. The quote you could not remember on chess and rulers is 'Kings and pawns, emperors and fools.' Not that it will make much sense to you now."

Tony took a step back, crossing his arms. "Do you know the future?"

"I do not have that gift. Why is it you ask?"

"You just seem confident you'll own me. I just assumed you knew the future."

"Just because I cannot see what lies ahead does not mean you will not be ensnared by my kind. Past behavior predicts future behavior."

"Except in my case," Tony stated. "If Pepper was still alive, you would never have seen me again."

"But she is dead, and you blame yourself. Here's a question, is it your fault?"

"Of course."

"What about that girl you're so eager to protect?" the demon questioned. "Have you never wondered more about her? Have you never wondered what her role is?"

"She is of no consequence."

"He kept her because she is."

"Conrad?"

The demon growled. "The point I am trying to make is you should check into her background a little more before you accuse me and my brethren of every sin."

"Why would I accuse her of something?"

"What part does that siren play in Virginia's death?"

Tony stopped. Keeva played a part in Pepper's death? "She didn't even know Pep. If you're going to lie, at least make it believable."

The demon growled. "Such is the trouble with mortals. They accept everything they see."

~TS~TS~TS~TS~

The dirt beneath her feet cracked as if it had never seen water. A tree stood near; grey, leafless, never to see a spring again. The sky rumbled with black clouds, warning of impending threats. Shackles bound her wrists. The metal cuffs clanged softly as a tremor ran through her bones.

Before her stood a woman clothed in navy blue. Her cloak swished against the ground as if blown by a soft breeze.

"This is your fault. You ruined everything," the woman growled; her arms crossed, brow furrowed. "Everything would have worked out if you weren't so disobedient."

Keeva shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

"You've set everything off-balance. Why couldn't you have been content with Conrad? You should have been. You know him."

"He's my captor. Why would I want to be content with that?"

The woman sighed and began to wear a trench in the dead earth. "I don't know how to set this right. I should and I don't. I'm failing. This is what happens when you take on more than you can chew."

"Failing what?" Keeva thought the woman might just be losing her mind. She spoke at moments like Keeva wasn't even around. Maybe she was in the onset of Alzheimer's.

"He thought this would work," she hissed, speaking aloud to herself. "He was so foolish to think that he could pull this off, and no one would realize. Did he really think that he could gain power? Did he really think no one would notice? Did he really think he should interfere? This entire plan is going to unravel if he doesn't sit back."

"What's Conrad planning?"

The woman paused and looked at her. One eye brow rose before she spoke. "It's funny how time works."

"Time?" Keeva didn't dare speak what she truly thought: _This woman is all kinds of crazy._

"After so long, the memory forgets that of old," the woman sighed.

"You know why I don't remember?"

"It is something I have the privilege of knowing, yes."

"Why don't I remember?"

"You don't want to."

Keeva shook her head. "What?"

"You have no desire to recall the past."

"That's absurd. Why wouldn't I want to remember?"

A smirk crossed the woman's face, a gleam appearing in her eye. "You don't want to take responsibility for your actions."

"What actions? Why wouldn't I take blame?"

"If I had ruined lives, I wouldn't want to admit it."

"I've been imprisoned for years; I hardly doubt that I've done anything."

"Tony thinks it was Mandarin that murdered Pepper. He's only a front. A silly pawn."

Keeva took a step back. "Who's Mandarin?"

The smirk widened. "I guess you'll have to find a way to remember."

She sighed as her eyes dropped to the dirt. "I didn't kill Pepper. I don't even know her."

"No? I seem to remember hearing you told a hairstylist otherwise."

"I was lying to her."

"Like you're lying now."

"I didn't know Pepper!" The woman shrugged in response. Keeva narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

"Someone you once knew."

"I don't know you."

The woman drew closer. "I don't know you? Is that so?" When Keeva didn't respond, the woman continued. "Did you not spend countless times screaming for mercy from Conrad? Did you not spend time after time attempting to die? Are you not worried now that you might get Tony killed?" Keeva stiffened as her eyes widened. "I know many things."

"You're working with the dark man."

She chuckled. "I suppose you could say that. The point is, Keeva, I know you. And I know your real name. I know what you did. I know you were unhappy, and in your own lack of content, you ruined everyone else's."

Keeva shook her head. "You're wrong. You're a liar. I've been imprisoned for years! This isn't my fault. I didn't get Pepper killed. You can't pin that on me. I didn't even know her! And I won't get Tony killed. Your cohort is wrong."

The woman looked her dead in the eyes. "When you come out of your denial, you will see just how wrong you are. These mortals on this planet have a saying; the grass is always greener on the other side. You thought it would be. Tell me, is it?" Keeva felt as if the woman was dangling her like a marionette, taunting her with information just out of her grasp. "When you're found out, you'll be hated and despised. There will be no safe place for you to hide. You better hope to your God that you remember before others do. When they realize what you did to them, what you've done to us all…"

In a flash, it was as if all the dirty windows blew open in Keeva's mind. She winced in the luminosity now present. Her mouth parted slightly as memories came into the light. She looked at the woman. "I... I know you… I remember you… I _know_ who you are." Her eyes narrowed as her voice rose. "You're not supposed to be here! What are you doing here?! Why are you—!"

The woman slammed a hand over Keeva's mouth. Her eyes narrowed. Venom seemed to drip on every word. "Don't you dare, you little git! Did you think remembering would be that easy? Do you honestly believe I'll let you remember? I haven't spent this long setting plans into motion for you to screw with them."

A muffled shriek sounded from behind the hand. Keeva felt fire course through her veins. Flames licked their way through every fiber in her body. The world before her burned to ashes. Darkness consumed her. One thought entered her mind before nothingness overtook. _I'm sorry, Pepper…_

The windows slammed shut.


	12. Powder Blue Cover Up

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_Baby's black balloon makes her fly  
I almost fell into that hole in your life  
And you're not thinking about tomorrow  
'Cause you were the same as me_

—_Black Balloon by Goo Goo Dolls._

Tony pushed up from the soft sea. What had just happened? How was he alive? Where was he?

Blinking, he sought to get a look at his surroundings. The sheets were silk and burgundy. A dresser snuggled against the bed to his left. It displayed his watch, phone, and a glass of water. He reached for the water, brought the glass to his lips, and took grateful sips. Floor to ceiling windows lined the wall behind him. This was his room.

He rubbed a hand over his face as he looked toward the balcony door. A chair sitting next to it held Keeva. She was slouched in the seat with her feet on a stool. Her arms draped across her stomach. Her raccoon eyes watched him carefully.

His lead limbs moved to sit on the edge of the bed. What had happened last night? There had been drinks. He lacked a headache—thankfully. His body was accustomed to his binges. From the other glimpses he remembered, he would need to apologize to Keeva. Never being one to ask for forgiveness, he decided on a different approach.

"I don't mind waking up like this," he attempted feebly, his voice thick with sleep. Keeva remained motionless. He placed the glass on the nightstand with a resounding thud. "This isn't the worst thing I've done, you know." When she remained silent, he knew she was beyond jokes. He swallowed roughly. "This changes things between us, doesn't it?"

How she even lingered in the house was beyond him. He had not been in the best frame of mind—he might have actually struck her at one point; he wasn't sure— yet she stayed. Had he twisted her mind? With her continued silence, he couldn't tell. She remained in that four-legged throne, reserving judgment on him—_keeping_ it from him. Anger boiled.

"Do you think you're too good to say anything?" His hands gripped the edge of the bed. "Are you honestly going to sit there and judge me?"

Her hands slid to her knees as she slowly sat up. They ran the length of her calves, halting at the ankle. "I'm not judging you, Tony."

His chest clenched, mimicking his stomach. His thoughts swirled in a whirlwind. Her soft words taunted him. Her simple movements mocked him. She was here to collect penance for Pepper. He should have figured it would come eventually. People said he would wake up one day and feel better. This was the exact opposite. He gave his life to be Iron Man, and killed her in the process. His heart lurched.

"Why are you still here?" His eyes narrowed. "I don't understand why you haven't left." She kept her silence. "What a shock. You've reverted back to that mute. Is this why Conrad kept you? Is this why he abused you? If you treated him like this, I don't see why he would treat you any better." He flinched at the words. He felt the cruel poison leak into the atmosphere. He was never like this. This wasn't who he was. Keeva, however, remained unaffected by it. "Why don't you leave?" he growled again, before gingerly lowering his head into his hands. The clock snapped loudly as if counting down to his doom.

"You don't really want me to leave. You know that. Because then…" She took a soft breath. "Because then the demons will come. They will circle you. They will taunt you. And they _will_ take you. The creatures you deal with will _never_ allow your return."

Her words didn't roar like a lion, nor were they soft and gentle like a lamb. He was reminded of a wolf—a lone wolf; confident, yet no stranger to hardship. She knew what he was going through.

"You know of them."

"Not in the same sense." Her words now washed over him, calming the rage; a shelter in the midst of a raging storm. "But I know they love to latch on. They are clever with their words. You don't feel their claws at first. Once they gain a foothold, however, you're lucky if they ever let go. Nightmares, visions, haunting… They are masters in dragging you to the depths."

Tony nodded as his shoulders slumped. Vague images of the demon appeared in the back of his mind. What had he dreamed of?

"Do you want to talk about them?"

Immediately, the demons spoke up, spitting and rejecting the offer as they surfaced from their abyss. He tensed in silent agreement.

"I can't save you," she said softly. The demons growled in agreement. "But I can listen."

Tony slowly put his head up. She was still watching him. Her hands rested on her knees with her feet on the floor. The demons snarled in protest. Holding his mouth shut, they coaxed him with gentle words while pushing her out of the picture. She was of no consequence.

Like a flowing river they shifted his thoughts to what lie beneath the burgundy silk sheets and wooden bed frame. He had hid it there three years ago. Rhodes had purged the house of all alcohol, leaving Tony dry—like a fish without water. Swearing it would never happen again, Stark had hidden a reserve. It was just one, to get him through till morning.

Did he want to go back down that path?

The girl didn't move. She patiently waited for him. That was something Rhodes had never done. Rhodey never tried to deal with Tony's problems. As soon as Stark's defenses rose, the Lt. Colonel backed down—with the exception of the alcohol exorcism. The girl, however, waited patiently, undeterred by his aggression and silence.

"She's gone." He barely heard himself as protests and disagreements roared. He wasn't sure if the girl heard him.

"I know," she responded softly, breaking through the cacophony.

Hearing someone else admit it brought a resounding finalization to the fact. While reigning in tears, his breaths seem to come sporadically. His stinging eyes sought her. She sat in a very relaxed state. No hidden smile lit her face. It was replaced by a soft look.

Slowly, she rose and crossed to him. She sat beside him. His arm tensed as she took his hand in an uncommon gesture. Despite last night's events, she was there. The demons shrieked as they retreated to the darkness.

"It never gets easier," she whispered as if trying to keep a secret from the demons, "going through something traumatic. It's _always_ there to haunt you. It is manageable, though." She nodded as if reaffirming herself in the process. "And… and… you make it through. There's a secret to those demons. They only haunt you if you let them. I haven't mastered them yet, but I'm working on it. You _can't_ help me through it, but you _can_ walk beside me."

Tony realized she wasn't referring entirely to herself. She was restating what she had said a few weeks ago. "How do you deal with them?"

Keeva remained silent next to him. He thought maybe she wouldn't answer, and thus turned his gaze to her. Her eyes were slightly narrowed as they watched the floor, and her head was slightly tilted to the right. He was surprised to realize he had missed a few things.

He could now see what years of captivity had done to her. The timid, shy, little girl no longer sat next to him. A weathered look lay on her face, tiredness in her eyes, a slight frown on her lips; she was no longer that young child he saved. She leaned forward as if centuries lay behind her.

"I don't know that I do deal with them." Her voice was softer now, exhausted. She took a breath and looked at him. "I suppose that's not entirely true. I would prefer to hide and ignore them. I have had to come to terms with issues, and will have to acknowledge many more before I can feel peace. It's not impossible though. It can't be."

Tony sighed. "It's not easy, especially when you're alone."

"You're not alone, though. You have people who are there for you. They may not understand, but they are there to walk next to you while you recover. Everyone needs help at some point."

A small smile crossed his face. "You listen to a lot that I say."

"Just the good points," she replied. "It is true though; people can't save you, but they can be crutches to help you climb out. They are placed in your life for a reason."

"And who was placed in your life?"

"Obviously you. Should that even be a question?"

"I just wanted to hear you say it. I know I'm everyone's savior."

"Oh, is this the You Testament?"

"You're joking with that blasphemy, right? I would be Jesus, hands down." She chuckled in a breath, then tensed. "What's wrong?"

Keeva shook her head. "Nothing."

The breathlessness in her voice, betrayed her. "Keevs, what did I do to you?"

She pulled away from him. "You didn't do anything." She rose from the bed. He noticed her muscles tense, slowing her down as she stood. "Let's get out of your room. I'm tired of being here. You can shower or whatever and I'll meet you downstairs."

The subtle change in her demeanor cued him in that she was lying. To him, the subtle was as big as a semi-truck. She was out the door before he could mention anything.

Rising from the burgundy bed, he walked to the bathroom. He grimaced at his reflection; he looked like death incarnate.

Following a steaming shower and some shaving cream, he looked at the reflection of Tony Stark, billionaire. With a nod to the reflection, he felt better.

After throwing on a pair of grey-and-black plaid pajama-pants and a black shirt, he walked downstairs. Wisps of coffee aroma filled his nose. As he made for the kitchen a soft swish, like fabric in the breeze, caught his attention. He looked towards the entry way.

The demon leaned against the wall where the Barnett Newman had once hung. Tony's dreams of the previous night floated across his memory like gondolas. Last night had been worse than he imagined. However, Pepper's warning stood at the forefront of his mind.

"_You honestly listened to nothing I said."_

"Look, dark and scary, you're a liar," Tony commented with a shrug. "I'm going to place my trust in what I know. And I know that you twist the truth."

"_The girl—"_

"The girl has nothing to do with Pepper's death." He then turned and continued on toward the coffee.

Making a beeline for the kitchen, he practically sprinted to where the delicious smell radiated from. Pulling a Stark Industries mug from the cupboard, he placed it on the counter. His hands gripped the handle of the pot, and he watched as the nectar of the gods flowed forth. When the mug was full, he set the pot back with a click and brought the mug to his lips.

The nectar warmed his soul, and seemingly flowed through his veins. It helped clear his mind. After a few moments of relishing in the magical properties of coffee, he turned to the living room. That was when reality slapped him again.

Keeva sat quietly on the couch. Her fingers gripped the cushion as if suffocating it. Her eyes closed. Her body was tense. What had he done?

He approached her quickly, and set the mug on the table with a soft click. "Keeva, show me what I did."

Her eyes opened. She shook her head. Her voice was a whisper. "I'm fine."

Tony raised a hand to her back. As soon as it contacted the fabric, she jolted up with a quick intake of breath. In a swift motion, he grabbed her wrist. With his free hand, he lifted the back of her shirt. He paled as she broke free and stumbled away, a cry jammed in her throat. A hand moved to the front of her chest.

Her back was bruised dark, bluish-purple. Gashes were splattered across it, and parts shimmered where glass lay imbedded. No wonder she had been gentle in her movements. In a moment, he was up and had her by the wrist again. His fingers wrapped around the collar of her shirt. He gently pulled it back to reveal a dark black-red bruise. He swallowed. "Let's go."

"Where?"

"To the moon. Where do you think we would go? We're going to the hospital."

She pulled her wrist free, and took a few steps back; her lips pursed together. She shook her head.

"Keevs, this is serious. You need to get that taken care of."

She shook her head again.

Tony took a step toward her when the doorbell rang. He gave her another glance, before walking to the door.

Through the glass, he saw Steve. What was he doing here? Taking a deep breath, he straightened up, plastered on a smirk, and opened the door.

"Hey, Wing Tips. What's with the uninvited visit?"

"You know I always visit the day after, Tony."

"Oh, was I good last night? Who am I kidding? Of course I was. You weren't so bad yourself." He winked.

Steve shook. "You're more sarcastic than usual on this day."

"What can I say? I—Are you listening?"

Steve was distracted by something over Tony's shoulder. The man of iron would be willing to bet his entire fortune he knew what. Tony looked back, confirming what he thought. Peeking around the corner were two curious eyes.

"That's the girl?" questioned Steve.

"It's okay, Keevs. He's a friend." Tony turned back to Steve and lowered his voice. "Maybe you can help me get her to the hospital."

"Why does she need to go?"

Tony stepped back allowing Steve to enter. "It's a long story."

Keeva hesitated. Tony watched her glance to him before taking slow steps towards this new person.

When she was close enough, Steve held out his hand. "Steve Rodgers. Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

Keeva shook his hand. "You're that man who was frozen in ice. Captain America, right?"

He nodded. "That's correct."

"It's nice to meet you too, sir."

Tony's eye brow rose. "Why are you so nice to him? You been hostile with me ever since you arrived."

Keeva looked at him. "He didn't stick me in a house with hand cuffs."

"You're still holding that against me?"

"Always."

He turned to Steve. "So, are you going to help me or not?"

Steve looked at Keeva. "Tony tells me you need to go to the hospital."

"I'm not going. He's an idiot."

Tony shot Steve a pleading look with puppy-dog eyes. He then went upstairs.

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

Keeva watched as Tony retreated into the confines of the upper floor.

"Sometimes he can be so evasive."

Keeva turned to the man left standing with her. "Is he mad at me?"

"I don't think he quite knows how to handle you."

"But I thought he was Tony Stark?"

"Tony's been missing for a few years."

"Since Pepper died."

Steve nodded. "I've only noticed him recently emerge. You probably took his mind off of her."

Keeva shrugged and winced when the fabric scratched her back. "I don't think so. He still misses her, which he should. They were engaged. I think he thought I was going to save him though."

"That only delays the inevitable."

"And what would that be?"

Steve ran a hand through his short, light-brown hair. "He'll still have to deal with the loss. You would only be covering it up for the time being."

Keeva nodded, and shifted back and forth. "So, do you go by Steve? Maybe Wing Tips? Or I thought I read that they call you Cap."

Steve chuckled. "Tony calls me many things. Ignore them." He smiled.

"Shouldn't I ignore most things he says anyway?"

"That's definitely a safe rule of thumb. And Steve or Cap works." She stiffened as his brown eyes settled on her. "What happened last night?"

His tone was soft and yet held that military firmness. She bit her bottom lip, shifting uncomfortably. "Nothing…"

"Why won't you tell anyone?"

Keeva shrugged. If she was honest with herself, she wasn't entirely sure. She looked toward the floor where Natasha had fallen several weeks prior.

"I should have known something was coming," she said softly. "It was the anniversary of Pepper's death."

"So, what happened?"

"He was drunk. And playing with that gauntlet. It went off."

"Are you blaming yourself?"

Keeva looked at him. "Of course not. One could argue that I shouldn't have been in the workshop, but I don't think that's any reason to make it my fault. Sometimes bad things happen. That's all."

"And you're not accusing him?"

She shook her head. "Maybe I should, but, that's a dark place to be. I know what it's like to be there. And he's already mad enough at himself. When he woke up this morning, he said some things, but he's dealing with dark entities."

Steve nodded. "That's noble of you." Keeva shrugged. "What happened as a result?"

Her lips pressed together. "It… The… I…" Biting her bottom lip, she presented him with her back. Gingerly, she pulled up the back of her shirt. She waited for him to say something. She was sure it was bad; she had had glimpses of it. When he didn't respond, she stole a glance toward him. The grim look on his face caused her stomach to drop like a brick.

"You need to go to the hospital."

Keeva dropped the fabric, wincing as it slid over her torn skin. She shook her head. "I know what goes on there. I'm not about to go."

"How would you know what goes on there?" Tony questioned as he approached.

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

Tony held a black jacket in his right hand. He watched as Keeva shied back towards Steve. He found it odd that she warmed up to Cap so quickly. "Replacing me already?"

"I don't like anything that deals with people and doctors in small rooms."

"But you do need to go." Tony's eyes flicked to Steve, who nodded adamantly. "What if we went to a smaller place, with very few people and one doctor?"

Her lips pursed to the right as her brows rose. With a soft breath, she nodded. Tony tossed her the black jacket.

"Put that on. It won't scratch against your skin as much." He watched as she nodded again, and walked to the bathroom. He then turned back to Steve. "It's really bad, isn't it?"

"It's not good."

Tony sighed. "Am I going to have to apologize?"

"You wouldn't anyway?"

"You know me."

Steve nodded. "Let me ask you something, Tony. What is your fascination with her?"

Tony shrugged. "Just someone to help out." Steve's brow rose. Tony sighed. "She started to ask me something several weeks back, but stopped. She then moved on to the fact she didn't feel like herself."

"And you're thinking what by this?"

He looked at Steve. "When I drink—"

"So, we're not going to the hospital?" Keeva stood next to the wall, tugging on the sleeves of the large jacket.

Tony looked over and shook his head. "I have another place in mind." He opened the front door.

Keeva slipped on flip-flops at the door. "Is he going?"

"Steve?" questioned Tony. "Of course, we're taking his car."

"We are?"

"You better believe it, Old Glory." Tony allowed both of them to exit, followed them out and shut the door. He glanced up to the powder-blue car in front of his house. "You rented a Prius?"

"It was the only car they had left."

"I would have walked. Well, at least the windows are tinted." Tony slipped his Aviators on his face. "You drive. I wouldn't be caught dead behind the wheel."

Tony watched as Keeva climbed in the back seat and sat sideways, her head lolling against the fabric. Steve climbed in and started the engine—if you would call that starting an engine. The silent car pulled out of the driveway. As Steve headed down the two-lane highway towards town, Tony couldn't help but notice the line of cars appearing behind them. He glanced over at the speedometer.

"You're going forty, Wing Tips."

"It's a safe speed."

"For your grandmother. Pull the car over."

"Why?"

"I'm driving."

"I thought you wouldn't want to be caught dead driving this?"

"Shut up and pull over, Capscicle."

With a chuckle, Steve pulled over to the side of the highway. As soon as the traffic passed, Tony switched places with him. He glanced in the rear-view mirror to see a heavy-lidded Keeva staring into space. Hopefully, she would fall asleep. As he pulled out onto the highway, he pushed on the gas. Glancing at the speedometer, he groaned.

"You mean to tell me this only goes sixty-five miles an hour?"

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

Keeva's eyes glanced about the small office. Her senses had become fully alert as soon as she stepped out of the car—which Tony had complained about the majority of the ride. This was an entirely new environment, and she didn't have the energy to flee. For protection, Keeva had laced her arm through Tony's. From time to time, her face brushed against his shoulder. They crossed the pavement, and Steve opened a door with a soft swish.

The strong smell of cleaning alcohol and ammonia filled her nostrils causing her to cough as she entered. Her eyes quickly swept the room. In the two corners closest the door sat small trees. Metal chairs with sharp square edges lined the room—two of which held women with stretched faces and large lips. Two low tables splattered with magazines stood to the left and right of the door. A counter sat opposite of the door and held a clip board, along with a metal tin full of flowers attached to pens. Behind the counter were several bookcases full of beige file folders. To the right of the counter was a large wooden door.

She glanced about the room. Steve trailed behind the two of them, casting equally perplexed looks at his surroundings. One of the women kept her perfect nose shoved in the magazine, which was supported by her overly large chest. That couldn't be normal, could it? When Keeva glanced over, the other woman was looking over her magazine eying her with the two men. The woman seemed as if she was struggling to present a smile—or maybe that was her smile. Keeva quickly averted her glance ahead of her to the desk Tony was approaching.

A woman sat behind the desk. She wore a navy blue shirt, and quickly glanced over the three before her. Keeva felt her muscles stiffen.

"Hello," greeted the woman. "May I help you?"

"I'm here to see Dr. Watson."

"Oh, you called earlier correct?" Tony nodded. "I'll buzz him. It will be just a moment."

"You called him earlier?" asked Keeva.

Tony nodded. "When I went upstairs to change."

"You knew I was going to agree to this?" Keeva watched as the woman picked up a phone and clicked a button. As she spoke, Keeva couldn't shake an odd feeling. She felt as if she knew this woman. Anyone that she dealt with in Conrad's care were either masked or disappeared after a few weeks of service. In the one time she had ventured from Tony's house, she wasn't too focused on people.

Keeva startled as the wooden door swung open. A clean-shaven man with brown hair and a white coat smiled at Tony.

"Tony! What a surprise."

Tony stepped forward and shook the man's hand, greeting him. Keeva dropped Tony's arm and took a step back. He followed the doctor into the back room, leaving Keeva alone. She glanced up to see Steve watching her.

"Come on," he said quietly. "You know if we don't get back there, he'll say something smart-ass."

Reluctantly, she walked into the back room, and Steve shut the door behind them.

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

After refusing the hospital gown the doctor—Watson— had offered her; Keeva compromised by turning the jacket so the zipper was now open on her back, leaving the front fully covered. She clutched Tony's sweater between her fingers as this man removed glass from her back. He had given her something to numb the pain—only it hadn't worked. She felt each shard as it slid from her back. A few times, she almost passed out.

Watson had quieted down once he began this excruciating process, leaving Keeva to suspect Stark and he were not as close as they faked. She looked up at Tony, who sat in front of her, talking about the weather with Steve.

"It's always lovely here this time of year. You should think about getting a vacation home here."

"I'm not leaving New York, Tony."

"I'm not saying you need to leave the only place you've ever lived because you're afraid or anything, Wing Tips. I just said a vacation home in Malibu wouldn't hurt." He looked Watson. "Don't you agree? Malibu's lovely."

"When you have a money tree, it is very lovely," responded the doctor.

"See, there you have it. And S.H.I.E.L.D. and the government are like your money tree. They owe you huge for your services rendered."

"Why would I want to live closer to you?" Steve sighed.

"The sun might be a good thing for you."

"I'm not leaving New York."

"Look, you wouldn't need to worry about buying a house if money's an issue. You can stay with me. I have another bedroom."

"If I don't want to live closer to you, what makes you think I want to live _with_ you, Stark?"

"We can share the same bed if you want, sweet heart. And the Prius will save us on gas money."

A smile crossed Keeva's face as Tony bantered with Steve. It was nice not to be on the receiving end of his jokes for once. But it was nice to see that other people were friendly. Even though the captain didn't appear to like everything Tony said, he was still amiable about the situation.

Tony looked over at her. "Oh my God. Is that a smile? Stop the press." He grabbed Steve's hand. "Babe, we need to tell everyone about this."

Steve shot Tony a pointed look as he pulled his hand from Tony's. "I take it you haven't gotten her to smile."

"Maybe a lip quirk here or there, but never a full smile. This is huge news. Let me get my camera. This is amazing. I can see the headlines now: Keeva smiles."

"You'll be jealous because I'm on the headlines and you're not," she shot back. The doctor pulled a larger piece of glass from her back causing her to tense; the two men before her sobered.

"How did this happen to her, Stark?"

Tony looked at Steve. "It's a long story, like I said earlier."

"We obviously have time."

"It's not something I want to talk about, dear."

Steve gave him a curt nod.

"How did you two meet?" questioned Keeva.

"It's really a touch story," Tony said, pretending to wipe a tear. Steve's face took on a grim look. Tony continued in a Southern Bell accent. "I was walking down the street when my heel got stuck in this awful manhole. I tried tugging it out, but it was sure stuck. All of a sudden, I heard a dreadful noise, and looked up to see this dumpster hurtling towards me. What was I to do? Suddenly, this strong man tackles me, saving me and my shoe from a horrible fate."

An eye brow rose. "Isn't that what happened in the Wedding Planner?"

Tony shrugged; his voice returned to normal. "Well, let's just say he had me at hello."

"That's Jerry Maguire."

"Hey!" Steve exclaimed. "I know that one!"

Tony titled his head casting a sideways glance at Steve. "You did a good job today, Wing Tips. You get a gold star."

"Don't patronize me."

"Sorry, love."

Keeva studied Tony with a slight smirk on her lips. "Are you sure Pepper was your one true love? I mean, maybe she was your…" Her eyes searched the room. "What was that word…" The right side of her lips pulled up as she looked at him. "Maybe she was your beard."

Watson coughed trying to cover his amusement. Steve chuckled. Tony's eyes narrowed on her; a smirk playing on the corners of his lips.

"You think you're cute, don't you?"

"I don't know. Do you think I'm cute?" Her eyes widened. "If other people like me, what will you do? I may just outshine you!"

Keeva felt Watson pull away, laughing.

Steve laughed. "She keeps up with you, doesn't she?"

"I have too. I would never survive if I didn't." Keeva winced as Watson began pulling glass shards again.

"I blame this on the Prius," Tony stated.

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

Keeva clung to Tony as they exited the office, thankful her back didn't hurt nearly as much. The receptionist bid them goodbye. Keeva cast one more look at the woman in the navy blue shirt. Keeva didn't know who she was, but with the glare she received, the woman definitely knew her.

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

As he walked to the car, Tony looked at Keeva. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, above the injury he caused. She was beyond exhausted, leaning into him for support, and her face was clammy. The rings around her eyes had grown darker. He was certain that if a zombie apocalypse suddenly broke out, she would be killed out of fear. He held open the back door, allowing her to climb in. He shut it with a soft click, and looked across at Steve who was climbing into the passenger seat. He noticed Tony's gaze, and paused.

"Remorse?" Cap asked softly.

Tony nodded once. "And I don't know how to fix it."

"An apology usually works."

"I don't say the _S_ word."

"It might relieve your conscious, Stark." He climbed into the car.

The ride home was quiet. The sun lazily traipsed across the sky heading for rest. Keeva sat in the back, leaning sideways against the seat with glazed eyes. Steve sat in the passenger seat with equally glazed eyes—though Tony was sure Steve was remembering a war memory due to the frown on the man's face.

Tony turned into his driveway and parked the car. Glancing to a figure in front of the house, he stiffened. "Now we're all in trouble…"


	13. The Gestapo Returns

"_Nothing Stays Secret Forever."_

― _Jennifer R. Hubbard_

Tony stepped out of the car and looked at the figure before him. Clad in full military attire was none other than Lt. Colonel Rhodes. Even before Stark approached, he knew this conversation wasn't going to end well. He had blown Rhodes off for months, and now, the Lt. Colonel was going to get answers one way or another—answers Tony wasn't ready to give or cover for. Sometimes, Rhodey showed up at the most inopportune times. Shutting the door, he approached the Lt. Colonel.

"Sorry you had to catch me driving that excuse for a car. I don't—"

"Save it, Tony. Captain Roger's in town?" Rhodes nodded to the car.

"Obviously."

"Who's in the back?"

Despite knowing who it was, Tony still turned and looked. Barely visible through the windshield was Keeva's head. The car had lulled her to sleep. With the lack of engine, he wasn't surprised. "Steve's friend."

"Are you going to continue to lie to me, Tony? I thought we were friends?"

A brow rose as he looked at Rhodes. "What are you talking about?"

"Who's the girl?"

"_Steve's friend_."

"She's passed out in the back seat."

"She's on East Coast time." Tony turned, and walked back to the car. He could hear Rhodey following him closely and could almost feel the intense stare his friend gave. Steve was now outside the vehicle, watching keenly as well—though _he_ was probably making sure there wasn't a fight. Tony's fingers grasped the powder blue handle, and he pulled it open with a soft click. "She's sick, Rhodes. My house is now infiltrated with germs. It's disgusting."

"You just told me she was sleeping."

'_That's right.' _Tony internally grimaced. He now had to spin another lie. "She got sick, _and_ she's on East Coast time." Tony bent over to lift her. Keeva startled awake with a small gasp. Her eyes grew wide as they darted around, looking for something familiar. "Hey, calm down, Bambi. We're home." His mouth turned downward upon realizing she was still cold and damp. Perhaps he should have mentioned something before they left the doctor's office.

Her eyes studied Rhodes.

"This is Rhodey." He looked at the Lt. Colonel. "Rhodes, this is Keeva."

"Keeva?"

"Yep." Tony moved to pick her up.

Keeva pushed her hand against his chest. Despite the weak push, she obviously didn't want help. Slowly, she got out of the car and stood up, using the vehicle to steady herself. Tony watched the way her fingers curled around the powder blue metal, as if it were a lifeline. After casting Tony a glance, she turned to Rhodes. "You're…"

Tony hoped she wouldn't say anything incriminating. That would only bring on another round of questions. Why did the military show up at the worst times? Luckily, Keeva must have sensed the need to play naïve because she clamped her mouth shut.

Steve stepped around the car quickly—as if sensing the need to get her out of there—and wrapped his arm around Keeva. "I'll take her inside. She should rest." Before either of the men could respond, he exited—stage left, _literally_. Tony suddenly felt very thankful for their friendship.

"So, she's _just_ Captain Roger's friend?"

"He brought her here for a visit. There might be something going on between them—they might be _fondue-ing,_ as Steve likes to call it. Now, are you done being a jealous girlfriend?"

Rhodes' gaze narrowed slightly. Tony knew the fondue comment had taken the lie a bit far. "If you're done lying to me…"

Tony shook his head. "What do you want me to say, Rhodes? I've told you everything? Would you like to scan my brain for proof?"

"I thought you had a dream to put Conrad in his place."

"What are you droning on about?"

"You're not hunting him anymore."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Why aren't you hunting him?"

"Life happens, and other unexpected issues come our way. That's all there is to it." Tony placed a hand in his pocket. "Now, do you want to come inside for a drink? Or are you going to sit out here, coming up with more theories?"

Rhodes looked at Tony for a moment before he nodded. "I'll come inside."

Tony led the way. Walking into the house and through the living room, he entered the area to the right of the staircase. On the left side of the area was a bar. The wall behind the bar was stocked with bottles of alcohol—a personal heaven. He immediately made for the Scotch. The amber liquid poured into a glass as he grabbed it. Once full, he started to raise it towards his lips.

Images of lacerations, glass, and blood filled his thoughts. After a second thought, he turned and placed the glass on the counter before Rhodes. Putting the Scotch back, he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Shaking the image from his mind, he thought of coffee. Maybe he should make a cup. Hot, steaming—

"You're not having a drink?"

Tony shook his head as he withdrew from his reverie. He took a sip. "Not tonight."

"Cutting back?"

"Attempting too."

"Why the change?"

"What's with the 20 Questions? Is the military wondering if they're going to get funding soon?"

"No, I'm wondering what's with your new _friend_ and why you're being evasive. What's going on, Tony?"

"She came down with a nasty cold."

"No, there's something different about her."

"She's _friends_ with Capsicle. I don't think she's exactly right in the head."

Rhodes became very quiet—the kind of quiet before a storm.

Tony knew that with the silence that lapsed between them, the Lt. Colonel was stewing over it. It was a pity to know that this time, the topic wouldn't be dropped so quickly. He might as well attack the issue head on. Perhaps that would help smooth out the lie. Hadn't someone said that if you make the lie big, made it simple, and kept repeating it, eventually everyone would believe it? Tony paused. Hitler had been credited with saying that. Great, now he was becoming a Nazi to keep her safe. "What, Rhodes? Why are you still nagging? Why aren't you content with the truth?"

"If you're telling me the truth, then you wouldn't be this defensive."

"You're just looking for the next Watergate Scandal."

Rhodes shook his head. "I've known you how long, Tony? I know when you're lying."

"Oh, you're just a great judge of deception. Remember when you thought it was a good idea to take my suit to the military, and Justin Hammer got his hands on it? Hammer, of all people—the one who couldn't put batteries into a flashlight to save his life. What did he do with the suit? Oh, yeah, he gave it to that Russian, Vanko—"

"Stop, Tony! I just want the truth."

"I've told you the truth. You're just grasping at straws now…and poorly, I might add."

Rhodes slammed his hand on the table. His glass rattled. "How long are you going to play this game?!"

"For God's sake, Rhodes! What do you want from me? A confession signed in blood?"

"You're not searching for Conrad or the dead girl because you've already found her!"

"_What?_" Stark stared at him. "What magic hat did you pull that out of? Why would I be searching for a corpse? There's a ton of kinky shit I'm into, but necrophilia isn't one of them."

"You were so adamant on finding Conrad and then you stopped. You _had_ to have found her."

"She died. Why would I waste my time?"

"You stopped searching before she died."

"That's the furthest thing from the truth," Tony said dismissively. "Why would I continue looking for a dead girl, Rhodes? People don't resurrect, unless you're Jesus—though some speculate that as well."

"That girl you have upstairs is the one Conrad had. She was the girl you were after. Tony, do you realize that she was wanted by the U.S. government? Do you realize 77 countries were looking for her?"

"_Were_," he stated with a roll of his eyes. "Rhodes, that's not—"

"Don't lie to me, Tony. I know that's the girl. That's what you've been hiding."

"I'm not hiding anything. When did you become so interested in my personal life anyway? If I recall, you once said the less you knew, the better." He took another sip of his bottle. "You sound paranoid like I've got a conspiracy going. Been watching _The Bourne Identity_?"

Rhodes paused for a few heart stopping seconds as his eyes widened. "The two glasses! The times you've rushed to get me out! It was all to hide her. How could you lie to me? This is a capital offense."

"I'm not lying!" Tony retorted. Did mentioning a movie really remind him of that event? "Why do I even have to answer to you?"

"She's Conrad's project. I have a duty to retrieve her." He rose from the stool, pulling a phone from his pocket.

"No, you don't understand, Rhodes." Tony leveled him with a look. To hell with Hitler's thoughts. He couldn't keep the charade up anymore. If Rhodes phoned any military personnel, the situation was not going to be pretty. "She's not going anywhere. You know what the government will do if they get their greedy claws on her. She's been through enough." He stared at the man, willing him to understand.

"Tony, this is against regulations. I can't let this slide."

"You've let a lot of things slide—"

"Not with this level of national security."

"The Iron Man suit."

"Apart from the suit."

"The F-22 Raptor that hit me on my way back from Afghanistan."

Rhodey shook his head. "You're going to continue giving me examples, aren't you?"

"The suit you stole before Hammer got his disgusting paws all over it."

Rhodes sat. "Do you even know what she's capable of?"

Tony felt his body relax; a sigh escaped his lips. At least Rhodey was willing to hear him out about the girl. "Not much from what I've seen. She's pretty battered and bruised right now."

"What happened?"

"It's not something I'd like to discuss. Besides, it's probably better if you _'don't know.'_"

A few moments lapsed because Rhodes spoke. "So, you've had her almost a year then?"

Tony nodded. "And for most of the time we didn't speak."

"Has S.H.I.E.L.D come after her?"

"I disposed of Natasha a while ago. I hope it's taking her a while to get back to S.H.I.E.L.D. I don't want her finding Fury yet."

Rhodes leaned back on the chair. "You know this is a huge favor you're asking of me."

"I think you still owe me for the suit, War Machine."

"I thought that was paid in full?" he chuckled.

"Not even close."

"So, do I get to meet this girl?"

"You did."

"No, I mean _actually_ meet her."

"Once the suit is paid in full."

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

Tony closed the door behind him with a soft click and settled his back against it. The conversation with Rhodes hadn't been easy. He wanted details about the girl Tony couldn't—_wouldn't_—provide. He wasn't sure why Conrad had her, and he didn't know what she could do—two things he _should_ probably know. That didn't mean handing her over to the government would explain those things.

Walking down the steps to his workshop, he grimaced upon seeing the amount of glass and blood that covered the floor and wall. He had sure given her a beating. His stomach knotted. Tony knew he could come off as an asshole—took pride in it many a time—but that didn't mean he didn't feel remorseful for what had transpired.

After grabbing a broom, dust pan, and large trash bin from the garage, he began disposing of the horrid event. How had he been in such a state? Why had he been tinkering with his gauntlet in such an intoxicated condition? His memories of the night before were foggy, but he knew the demon played a role in Keeva's injury.

After another crash of glass hitting the bottom of the bin, he was pulled from his reverie.

"Need help?"

Tony looked up to see Steve loitering at the bottom of the steps. "Are you a jealous girlfriend, too? I already have Rhodes to deal with."

Steve smirked. "I thought we were dating."

"You're not funny, Wing Tips." Tony swept glass into a pile. "Especially at this moment."

"You really do make sure everyone plays in your world, don't you?"

"Tony Stark." He pointed to himself.

Steve leaned against the cement wall. "The girl's sweet."

"She's been a mute. Did you sign to her?"

"I spoke with her a few times today."

"She speaks?" His eyes watched the glass get caught in the broom, and he sighed. "She warmed right up to you. Did you give her candy? Guess I'll have to train her regarding stranger danger. Or maybe it's the fact that you were frozen for all those years." He swept a pile into the dust pan, and dumped it in the trash. "You're not a threat."

"She doesn't seem to think this—" Steve nodded to the glass and blood, ignoring his jab. "—is your fault."

"She's an interesting one—bit psychotic."

"Tony, what happened?"

"She's been kept in a cage like an animal. That's probably why she's not all there. I've considered taking her to therapy or getting her a lobotomy."

"You don't honestly think that. You _don't_ think she's crazy."

"Of course I do. I seem to attract the nut house." Tony looked Steve up and down, indicating that he was included in the statement.

"You don't think I'm crazy, either. Now, I'm serious. What happened between the two of you?"

Stark paused as he looked away. "I did it to her."

"I assumed that."

Tony leaned the broom against the wall and turned to Steve. "I don't know why she came down here—she thinks she owns the place, apparently. And I barely remember the night as it is. One minute, everything was fine, the next, my gauntlet went off. After that, I woke up in my bedroom."

Steve nodded. "You were drunk?"

"No, I was sleepwalking," Tony quipped.

"Stark."

"What do you think, Shield Slinger? When have you ever known me to be anything other?"

"When you were with Pepper. And then again, in the recent months with this girl."

"Well, vacation's over." Tony turned, grabbing the broom and sweeping more glass into a pile.

After a few silent moments, Steve was beside him with another broom. Without another word about the situation, they finished cleaning up the glass and wiping down the walls. Once again, Tony felt thankful for Steve. He knew that if Rhodes had seen the downstairs, the man never would have left. It would have been question after countless question—until he had thrown Rhodey out.

When they finished, Stark retreated to the upper floor with Steve in tow.

Standing in the doorway to Keeva's room, Tony yawned. His shadow filled part of the room, looming ominously over her sleeping figure. Again, a pang of guilt flared inside like a fiery weed. He donned the suit to protect people, not to do things like this.

He turned to Steve. "The guest room's all made up." He always kept it prepared in case someone—usually Steve—dropped by.

"Thanks." Steve nodded, pausing momentarily. "Stark? You don't have to let this define you. You don't need to stay in that alcoholic state. There is hope beyond it."

"Sweet dreams, love."

"And we wonder why people think there's something between us," Steve muttered as he walked away.

Tony crossed the floor of her room. Sinking into the chair, he sighed. As he looked at her, he realized she was far from sleep. Despite her half-closed eyes, she was alert. She lay on her side, being unable to lay on her back or stomach—that was his fault. He reached for the glass on her nightstand and handed it to her. "Here, sip."

Slowly sitting up, a shaky hand took the glass and sipped.

"Do you feel better?"

She nodded, but her pale face and hand tremor betrayed her.

"You're lying."

She nodded again, holding out the glass.

Tony grabbed it and placed it on the nightstand with a soft thud.

She shifted to the edge of the bed, her knees tucked under her and to the side. She watched Tony; her eyes squinted, trying to focus on him.

"You don't think I'm any better than Conrad, do you?"

The right side of her lip quirked up as she shook her head, her ponytail slightly swaying with the movement.

Why the question amused her, he hadn't the slightest. It was the truth.

"You are." Her voice was soft, almost inaudible in the reply.

"I shot you with my gauntlet," Tony deadpanned.

A soft smile spread across her pale face. She recognized his sarcastic undertone. "I think the Prius today was penance."

"Oh, go to sleep."

As if on cue, Keeva yawned. She raised a hand to rub her eyes.

The sleeves of _his_ jacket—which clearly read _Property of Stark Industries_ across the back—covered her hands. She still wore it?

"People make mistakes, Tony. People forgive. At the end of the day, however, you have to be able to forgive yourself."

"You're a guru now? Selling books yet?"

She shook her head as she sank into the sea of sheets again. "I just know. I've hated myself before. You can't exactly move forward, because you're blaming yourself for things that are outside of your control. Pepper wouldn't hold you responsible, and neither do I."

"So, how am I supposed to forgive myself, Dr. Phil, _if_ that's my issue?"

"It's something you have to figure out on your own." Her eyes fluttered shut—would any amount of sleep fix those dark circles? "I don't know…"

"That's inspiring."

She smiled again. "And, Tony… Bambi's a boy."

He heard the slight shift in her breathing as she finally passed into the dream realm. He rose and tucked her in. Despite all the recent events, she chose to end the night off with a remark about the deer. How was it that she forgave so easily? There were still women to this day who despised—yet loved him—and all he had done was share a bed with them for the night. He had sent this girl through the ringer and yet she kept marching on—trusting him?

Sinking back into the chair, he milled over what she had said. Pepper had said to move on and that fit in with what Keeva was saying. Forgiving himself would be a way to move on. However, was that his issue?

His eyes slowly shut as he watched her sleep. He never knew that a dark man with a smirk stood in the shadows near the door.

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

_Blue._

_A blue light._

_Again._

Keeva yawned. After rubbing her eyes, she looked around.

The chair next to her bed was now empty. Tony must have left during the night.

Her eyes caught sight of the water-glass on the nightstand. Rising, she reached for it. Her finger tips emerged from the black sleeves that covered them. Wrapping them around the room-temperature glass, she brought it to her lips. In a few sips, she finished it.

Her eyes glanced around. There was no blue light in here.

Setting the glass on the desk, she stretched. Wincing as a lightening streak of pain rippled across her back, she sighed. At least it felt better than yesterday. No glass tore into her flesh.

A clatter sounded at the door. She looked over to see Tony bringing in a silver tray. On the serving dish sat a glass of orange juice, grapes, and some odd, yellow thing on a plate.

"Ah, good. You're up." Tony dropped the tray on her lap. She watched as the juice ran dangerously close to the rim of the smooth glass. The fork and glass dish rattled against the silver. "Eat up."

Keeva took a closer look at the yellow thing. It looked as dry as a desert and the bottom of it was black—or nearing that stage. "What in the world is that?"

"It's an omelet."

"That looks nothing like what I make."

"Pepper didn't complain."

Keeva swallowed. She didn't expect him to mention Pepper the day after. She stared at the orange juice. She could ask him questions about Pepper; he _had_ brought up the topic. Was it too soon? She took a deep breath. "What's the full story with Pepper?"

When Tony didn't immediately answer, her eyes moved up to him. He was looking at her. She resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow in question. "That's why you came down to the garage that night."

Keeva nodded.

Tony sank beside her on the bed. She tilted towards him with the weight change and the juice mimicked her movements. "Six months after Pep and I got engaged, there was a crisis. Word came that more of my weapons were being used in Afghanistan. I thought I had disposed of them in that half of the world. It was gruesome over there; bodies: women, children… I left Pepper alone. Fury said they would keep an eye on her. I should have known there was something I wasn't seeing."

"Who's the man?"

"Mandarin," Tony replied. She watched as he focused on the omelet. "He's a technology guru. He wants to be me—as if I would let that happen. I kept preventing him from stealing company ideas and projects. He set up the attack in Afghanistan. Once I was distracted, he broke into the house. Jarvis and Pepper couldn't stop him." He stopped and took a deep breath. A few tense seconds passed before he spoke again. "I'll never understand why he killed her. She didn't need to die."

"You think you should have been the one he killed."

Tony nodded.

"But you can't think that way. There must be a reason you survived. If you had died…" The gravity of that thought sank in. The color drained from her face.

"You would have still been with Conrad."

Her voice lowered. "Thank you."

"That's what I'm here for, Keevs. Now, are you going to eat that, or did I cook it for nothing?"

She picked up her fork and poked at it. If he wanted to move on from the topic, she definitely did. "What did Pepper used to say about your omelet?"

"She loved it."

Keeva cut a piece and put it in her mouth. An eyebrow rose as she chewed it. "Loathed it?"

"You didn't complain about my cooking before."

"Beggars can't be choosers. I didn't know any better. And I do the cooking now for obvious reasons."

"I go out of my way to cook you breakfast, bring it to you on this tray with orange juice and grapes, and all you do is complain?"

"It's dry. And you don't cook grapes."

"So, just because you've been cooking, you think you're Wolfgang Puck now? Fine, don't eat my cooking." He pulled the tray from her.

"Hey! I thought you cooked it for me."

"Some people just don't understand fine dining." He picked off a grape and popped it into his mouth.

"Fine dining? It's burnt black along the bottom. What did you do, leave it in the pan for half an hour? Gordon Ramsey would call you a bloody donkey."

He picked up the fork and took a bite of the omelet. "I don't know what you're complaining about. It tastes fine."

"If your taste buds are nonexistent," she mumbled, pulling the plate and fork from him.

"I thought you hated it."

"Yeah, well, when you've gone years without having a good meal, you'll eat anything."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Will it stroke your ego?" She looked at him.

He popped another grape into his mouth in response.

"Then no, it's not a compliment. Now, where's your boyfriend?"

"He left early this morning."

"Why so soon?"

"He only stays a day or two."

"Pity, I liked _him_." Keeva munched on the omelet. Despite the odd flavor, it actually wasn't half bad. She'd had worse. After finishing the omelet, she yawned. Putting the plate on the tray and handing it to Tony, she snuggled back into the comforters.

"Did the doctor say how long it'd be until I healed?"

"A few weeks."

Keeva nodded into her pillow. The last thing she saw was Stark popping another grape into his mouth as he looked down at her. The world faded into darkness again.

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

Tony watched over her as she recovered during the next few weeks. The first two weeks, all she did was sleep—what a bore. No one was around to harass or talk to. His workshop kept him occupied to an extent, but he found himself wandering up to her room, checking to see if she was awake. With the quiet time presented, he attempted to buy her new clothes. He wasn't sure how well he did, since she couldn't try on any of them.

When he had come out of his drunken state, he noticed she had put on weight. After she first arrived, Pepper's clothes would have been loose on her; now, they wouldn't fit. As he thought about this, he realized that the further she withdrew from her shell, the more she changed. Her personality and looks were subtly transforming as she became more comfortable around him.

In the third week, she was _finally_ up walking around. Tony took this opportunity to bring her into the garage and show her what he considered the ropes. She enjoyed every moment of it; she was curious about everything from the car engines to the way his suit attached to him.

When he walked in the garage one evening, he had every intention of working on the Green Project. It was something that Pepper wanted him to finish. Using the Arc Reactor technology, the goal was to create something that produced clean energy. He was sidetracked from his mission when he found Keeva tinkering with one of his cars. Dummy, his most prized possession—despite what he said to the less than intelligent robot—sat next to her handing her tools.

At one point, she looked at Dummy. He—if it could be classified as a sex—looked at her—if that was even possible. A soft smile crossed his face as she talked to the grey and black robotic arm.

"Tony's been really pleasant." She turned back to the engine, tinkering with something unseen. "Do you think he'll stay like that? I don't mind the banter; that's always fun. Does he mean what he says, though? I can't always tell if he's joking."

The robot squeaked with movement as its arm shook back and forth, indicating 'no'.

"I suppose that's good. He doesn't hate me. Sometimes, I worry though…" She handed the robot a wrench as she bit her bottom lip. "So, I sort of have a suspicion…that I'm not human. What if the world hates me for it? Should I try to be like them?"

"I wouldn't want you to," said Tony.

Keeva stared. She spun around and leaned against the car. His grin grew. He took in her outfit as he walked to her. She was in a black tank top with a pair of basketball shorts. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail—which seemed to be sticking out at every angle. She was also covered in black grease—which made the flush in her cheeks stick out like Steve at a technology convention. It was hard not to smile at her. She was a mess.

"Having fun?"

"Most definitely." She saluted him, smudging more grease on her face.

Tony grabbed a clean rag from the tray next to her, and gently cleaned her face as he spoke. "I don't think you should change for them."

"I don't think I'm human. Shouldn't I be?"

"Where did this come from?"

"The television. I've seen those recent reports on Mutant Registration. They're hated. They're different and the world wants to crucify them."

"You've been watching too much television," he sighed.

Keeva rubbed her arm. "Do you think I'm human?"

"You went through a glass wall," he deadpanned.

"So, I'm not normal. Well, I should be."

Tony looked her in the eye. "Why would you want to be just like the rest of the world, Keevs? Most of them are liars and deceivers."

"But if I were human, I wouldn't have to worry about Conrad."

"It's too late for that wish."

"But if I could be human, I could blend into the crowds."

"Sure, it means you would never be physically hurt or captured, but would you really want to be just like everyone else?"

Her silence and raised eyebrows told him she didn't want to be the same. "What do you think I am?"

"I toyed with the thought you might be a ghost," he admitted as he leaned against the car. He looked down at her. "After some consideration, I don't think you're one of those mutants."

"What does that leave? You don't believe in that other world stuff."

"Extraterrestrials?"

Keeva nodded.

"I never said that. I'd be a fool not to. This universe is so vast. Who knows what's out there? Do I believe they're green little men? Not in the least. Do I believe in those Hades and Thor myths? That's a firm no. I don't care what crazy thing Conrad's cocked up about realms, that's like believing in Santa Claus."

"You mean he's not real?" she feigned a gasp.

Tony shot her a look.

"Wait; is the Easter Bunny fake too? Or the Holiday Armadillo?"

"I'm never letting you watch television again. It rots your brain."

"My life is a lie."

Tony shook his head with a smirk; he crossed his arms. "Keevs, about a few weeks ago—"

"My back's fine. Why do we have to revisit the event?"

"That's something Conrad would—"

She held up her hand. "The Tony Stark I've read about would not be like this. You're not giving yourself enough credit." She reached out and touched his face, leaving a grease smudge on his cheek. "Uh…"

"You smudged my cheek, didn't you?"

"Kinda, I'll clean it." She reached for the rag he was holding.

"Nuh-uh," he said, raising the cloth from her reach. "You're filthy. And while I like my girls dirty, I prefer to keep my face clean. Well, in most cases." He moved and finished cleaning off her face. "The rest of you can stay dirty, but at least your face is clean now."

"What about you? You have a smudge."

"I can take care of myself. It's just a smudge. Now go clean up and I'll make dinner."

"I thought you said I could stay dirty."

Tony pointed to the stairs.

"So, in other words, you're saying I'll be paying for the smudge at a later time, that you don't really like the grease, and that I'm making dinner."

"Clever, aren't you?"

Keeva rolled her eyes, patted Dummy, and left the shop.

When she was out of sight, he leaned over to Dummy. "She's a smart cookie, isn't she?"

The robot nodded.

"I think she likes you. What do you think?"

The robot nodded again.

"Good to know."

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

Over the next few weeks, Tony found himself slipping comfortably into this new routine with her. He knew he could always find her playing in his workshop or reading. She also spent plenty of time talking with him. Despite his prior irritation of being unable to read her, he realized that every emotion that crossed her mind was seen reflected in her eyes.

This trait came in handy late one night. He found her in the workshop, looking over something. Her face was blank, but her eyes said otherwise.

"What's wrong, Keevs?"

"You lied."

"About what?"

Keeva looked at him. "The reason Mandarin was after you. It wasn't just any company idea or plan." She spun the left monitor toward him.

He swallowed as he read the project name: _Extremis_.

* * *

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	14. I Don't Trust You

"_All we see of someone at any moment  
__is a snapshot of their life,  
__there in riches or poverty,  
__in joy or despair.  
__Snapshots don't show the million decisions that led to that moment."  
_—_Richard Bach_

Tony paled. Many times over the past few weeks he had debated if he should say something to Keeva about the suit. The armor was ominous—dangerous even—and in the end, he decided it would be best kept under wraps. That plan now stood by the wayside as Keeva looked at him, expecting answers—or so he assumed. He knew she would disagree. It was something Pepper had hated, and Keeva thought much like Pep.

"Why this?" Keeva demanded, worry making itself known through her furrowing brow. "What is the purpose?"

"Do you even understand what it does?"

"You insert yourself with these microscopic mechanical bugs—"

"That's not how it works." He crossed his arms.

Her eyes narrowed, dancing dangerously with a spark ready to ignite at any way he might try to defend himself. What did she care? Why was she so worried?

"It's comparable to the serum that manufactured Steve Rogers into the super soldier he is, except this serum is enormously perilous." The warmth that normally was found in her voice, drained, leaving behind frosty, low tones. "It's a super-soldier _solution_. It's a bio-electronics package fitted into billions of nanotubes, or nanites, or whatever it is you wish to call them."

"Do you even understand what you're saying? It sounds to me like you've memorized information from somewhere."

She averted her gaze to the smooth cement floor. When she spoke, it was slow and deliberate, "You inject it like a shot, but it's worse. It attacks the portion of the brain that heals you, and it rewrites that DNA. It can eradicate you in the process. Those _things_ can take over your brain; they essentially do."

"They don't 'take over' your brain—this isn't _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_. I would control them."

"No, that's just what you imagine. That's what you _want_ to believe."

Tony paused. He had argued this exact point with Pepper long ago. He attempted to change topics. "Keeva…what's with the mood change? PMS?"

"This is incredibly dangerous, and you know it!" she snapped.

Tony took a breath, hoping that if he relaxed, the ticking time bomb before him wouldn't go off. The breath gave him a few seconds to think. Keevs was right about the procedure. Pepper had also feared as much. He couldn't deny it—despite the overwhelming desire to. The risks it posed were extremely high. It had produced no successful results as of yet. "Keevs, it's okay."

"It's _not_…it's not going to be _okay_! This is precarious. It is more perilous than the super-soldier serum was. Only an elite few carry the gene that can even _survive_ its assault on the system. _All others die._ Why would you consider such an asinine idea?"

Despite how incredibly—and unjustifiably—angry she was, he bit back a smile. She seemed to lose any dialect she picked up in his house and took on the speech pattern she originally had. That, coupled with her manner, reminded him slightly of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. "In the suit now, I'm not able to move as fast. It's a hindrance. Maneuverability in flight is slow. With a suit like _that_, one I could control with my mind, one that I could call in a matter of seconds, one that would make me stronger, I would be able to help more people. So, why not?"

"I do not have confidence in these bugs."

"I programmed them."

"That does not mean they're _harmless_, Stark! What about the weapons you used to make? The ones that earned you your nightlight? Or like the Jericho? Those weren't safe."

Tony stiffened. He hadn't discussed the specifics of his 'vacation' in Afghanistan a few years back, with her. He was pretty positive he had never mentioned he was a weapons dealer, and he _knew_ he had never mentioned the Jericho missile. She must have researched him. He'd be a fool to think she wouldn't; she was resourceful. She had looked up Pepper's death. He opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off.

"They got Pepper murdered."

He moved back a step, feeling as if he had just been physically punched. The fuse apparently had little explosives set within it—and one had just gone off.

Keeva shook her head. "You can alter your armor now. The metal can be forged stronger and slimmer. You can modify the flight. It is possible."

"I've looked into it, Keev. It's not possible—"

"I'm informing you it is!"

Tony took a breath and adopted a serious look. He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Keevs, what's a matter?"

"This suit! This—" She shoved him back and made for the door.

"No, you don't." He grabbed her wrist. "You're not running away this time."

Her hand met the side of his face with a loud_ slap!_ Her wrist pulled free of his grip, and he watched the glass door open with a _swish,_ allowing her freedom.

Tony stood speechless for a few moments, attempting to process what had just happened. Keeva had smacked him. He hadn't expected her to react that way. With a shake of his head and a rub of his cheek, he left the garage and jogged up the steps to the bottom floor. The steps above him creaked with her retreating footsteps.

As he ascended the second steps, he was greeted by a glass bowl smashing the wall next to his head. Momentarily stunned, he watched as the pieces scattered across the floor like insects. What in God's name had happened to her? Why was _she_ upset about the Extremis armor? Since when did she turn into Mr. Hyde?

Before he could come up with an answer, another bomb hit the wall, exploding into glass shards and dust.

Tony's lips pursed as he continued up to the top floor. His house had now become a war zone because she had lost every last marble she owned. He was halted two steps from the top as another piece rocketed toward him.

He ducked under it, hearing its fate as it shattered against the wall. He stood up again and looked at the scene before him.

She stood—tight lipped, narrow stare—with a white-glazed vase of death poised to hit him. What was her issue? He would gladly take Rhodey's incessant questions over his housing décor being transformed into grenades, any day.

"Is this _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_, and I missed it?"

"You believe yourself to be funny, don't you?"

He leaned back slightly as her words lashed mentally. "No, but I think you're a bit delusional at the moment. If I wanted my house demolished, I would have called a team with a wrecking ball—though apparently they wouldn't _need_ the wrecking ball with the job you're about to do."

"Is everything a jest? Do you ever take anything critically? Or is Extremis a game to you as well?"

He looked at the exploding time bomb before him—atomic bomb may be more appropriate if he didn't calm her down. What was the connection between her attitude and Extremis? His mind turned over possibilities as the silence added distance between them.

His small lie couldn't have been the lynch pin that set her off. She couldn't be mad about why Pepper died. It was irrelevant, wasn't it? He looked at her narrowed eyes—the answer had to lie there somewhere. A slight sheen—like she might cry—held steady across them. Her brow furrowed, but not as if she was angry. A piece fell into place. She was worried. But _why_?

"Apparently you have naught to say," she growled. "You are _worse _than Conrad."

Why had she mentioned Conrad? Tony didn't dare remove his gaze from her in case that gleaming vase of imminent pain—or death—came rocketing toward him. Precious seconds slipped by as he attempted to connect the dots. Why did women have to be so difficult? He saw her draw the soon-to-be projectile back. If he could have already managed through the Extremis process, he would be able to stop her. His brows rose. If he could manage… "You're not going to lose me."

He saw the immediate effect in slow motion—like one of those foreign films where everything seemed to stop, all he was missing were subtitles.

The vase froze mid-swing. Her jaw slightly dropped as her eyes widened. He saw her glance at the ground and then back to him. Her hand—complete with vase—dropped to her side. Clamping her jaw, she spun on her left foot, retreating to the bathroom. The door slammed behind her, causing the walls to vibrate. A picture down the hall crashed to the floor.

Tony shook his head; he glanced toward his room. That door would be the easy way out. His eyes turned back the bathroom. _Wrecking ball avoids confrontation more than I do. _He sighed and walked to the door. Who hid in a bathroom anyway?

Knowing it was pointless, he tried the door knob. When it clicked open, he was surprised. Glancing behind, he considered returning to the garage for his armor. With the volatile state she was in at the moment, it would definitely be safer—though he wasn't positive the armor could protect him.

He pushed the door open and looked about the room. It was pitch black apart from the light from the hallway that forced itself in. The porcelain tub reflected in the darkness.

"Jarvis, lights," he said softly.

"Right away, sir," the AI answered. Light slowly sent the darkness fleeing.

Despite seeing the shadows chased away, Tony couldn't shake the feeling that they were closer than ever.

His eyes quickly glanced about the room. The vase sat on the sink, gleaming brightly, almost threatening him—_smug sucker_. The shower remained empty, as did the room in his first glance. After a second sweep, he found her, sitting in the claw foot tub. Her knees were brought to her chest and her hair disheveled. She was definitely a hot mess—he made a mental note to hide his razor and the umbrella. Crossing the tile, he looked down at her. "Do I need to call the psych ward?"

Her eyes closed as a long breath exhaled from her nose. Her head rested against the white porcelain.

Tony slid against the wall, until he was seated on the floor next to her. "Wanna fill me in on what I'm missing? I'd like to know why my house is getting a makeover. Should I expect Ty Pennington at the door with that megaphone of his? Though last I checked that show was cancelled."

Keeva shook her head; her eyes reappeared and studied the faucet on the tub. If he had suddenly lost his sanity, he would consider the steel swan faucet interesting too—he actually remembered doing something similar years ago.

"Keevs, I can't do anything if you don't throw me a bone."

"The chances you'll die are formidable."

Tony looked over the rim of the tub. Her voice had softened, it sounded tired. "That's what this is about? If I die?"

Keeva looked up at him; her chaotic hair covering her left eye. She could very well have just gone through a natural disaster. The fingers of her left hand swept the rebels behind her ear, allowing her sight. "What becomes of me if you do?"

Tony blinked. He had to admit it hadn't exactly been an issue on his mind. While he had considered suicide before, he had never considered the effects of it now. In fact, any way he could possibly die left him with a new obstacle, one that only she had thought of. "I hadn't thought of it, Keevs."

He watched as she swallowed and turned back to the swan.

"This is all stemming from Extremis?"

She nodded in reply.

"The model isn't even complete. You don't need to worry."

"But one day, it will be." Her speech was falling slowly into how she normally talked with him. "One day, you will succeed in creating it. What happens when it fails and you're…"

"It won't be for a long time. By then, I'm sure we'll have a plan for you." Tony stood. He looked down at her. "Move to your left." She shifted slightly. "No, your other left."

An eyebrow rose as she followed orders.

He stepped into the bathtub and sat down, facing her. His legs stretched out lining the opposite side of the tub. His arms rested on the porcelain sides and his fingers laced across his chest. "What else is bugging you about Extremis? You seem to think it's closer than I know it to be."

Keeva frowned; her eyes gazed at the white tub, not really seeing it. "I…" She sighed. "I feel like we've had this argument before."

"Déjà vu?"

Her shoulders slumped. "I just want to remember…"

"Hey, it's fine you don't remember. You've been through hell. It's normal for you to have Alzheimer's about it," he quipped.

"Not funny."

"I offered to call the psych ward."

Her eyes drifted up to his. "They would take you away first. You're in dire need of a straight jacket. I mean, you think you're funny."

Tony shrugged. "Maybe. But I'm always funny. It's you who should change the attitude, seeing as how anything you could grab became a grenade. My house would greatly appreciate it. Jarvis, wouldn't you appreciate it?"

"Indeed, sir, I would," responded the AI.

"I don't think I need to change," Keeva responded; her legs stretched out next to him. "It's _you _who does. You're arrogant."

"Is that so?"

Keeva nodded.

"Who thinks they understand nanite technology?"

Her eyes narrowed; she exhaled sharply. "It's dangerous."

"Oh, too soon?" He sighed and looked about the room. When she didn't reply, he glanced over. She was staring intently at the swan; one eyebrow was lifted, her teeth gently biting her bottom lip. His lips pursed. Either she was going to kill the swan, or she had formed a plan.

Her eyes snapped to his. "I can help you."

"Help?"

"With the suit."

Tony studied her. She wouldn't know anything about his suit. However, if he denied her this request he could very well lose the silver swan to his left. "If I say yes, does this mean we're on better terms?"

She nodded—safety for the swan.

"Fine. You can _watch_." He glanced over the bathroom once before looking back at her. "Why did you choose the bathroom to hide in?"

Keeva leaned back in the tub, her head resting on the rim. "Not sure. I hoped maybe you wouldn't enter out of privacy, but I should have foreseen the fact you have no boundaries. This isn't the first time you barged in on me."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

With Keeva's fears calmed, the biggest issue Tony dealt with over the next few weeks was the Green Project. It was something Pepper had wanted done. He wanted to complete it in her memory, but he had been unable to finish the project sooner. According to the tests, it wouldn't sustain like he needed it to. Instead of focusing on the issue, he pushed it aside to tinker with a keypad Steve had broken during his stay.

Tony sat at his desk, pulling apart pieces, trying to figure out exactly how Steve had managed to destroy it. The swish of the door grabbed his attention. He looked up to see Keeva walking in with drinks and a tray of sandwiches. This wasn't an isolated event. She often brought him food and sat with him while he worked. He had come to appreciate the fact she watched out for him. It reminded him of how Pepper was—always in tune with his needs and what was best for him, since he tended to forget about meals while in his cave.

"Ah, there's my lovely slave. I hope you made them the way I like," he quipped.

"And if I haven't?"

"I'll behead you."

He watched her shake her head as she placed the tray on the coffee table, and sat at the old couch. He followed suit, taking a seat beside her. Keeva tucked her feet under her as she grabbed a sandwich.

"How goes it, boss?"

"Not bad, just normal genius, billionaire issues. Stuff the commoners wouldn't understand." He grabbed a sandwich.

"Of course, my lord."

Tony took a bite and gasped. "This sandwich doesn't have turkey!"

She tossed him a narrowed glance before rolling her eyes.

"Off with your head!"

She shook her head, and her eyes studied the floor with a glazed look.

He raised a brow as he finished his first sandwich. He was surprised by her lack of come back. He moved onto a second sandwich before he spoke again. "Something wrong?"

Keeva shook her head and looked back at him. "No."

Tony watched her for a moment before he rose, and walked to his workbench, taking his drink with him. Keeva followed, pulling up a stool beside him.

Tony looked over at her. The dark circles ringing her eyes spoke volumes. "You're tired, aren't you?"

She shrugged, tossing a glance towards the Iron Man suits—was she still focused on Extremis? She then turned her attention on the trinket in his hands. "What are you working on?"

"I'm working on one of the keypads. Steve isn't always the safest with these things. That's what happens to old men."

"He broke that a few weeks ago. You're just getting to it now?"

"Since when are you a judge?"

"I thought I was a slave."

"A _lovely slave_; don't change my words." He put down the keypad and looked at her. Her curiosity rivaled his, when it came to mechanics. Her brain was hardwired very differently than that of a human—probably why she understood the Extremis idea. She saw things a bit differently—but that might have been due to her time in captivity. Still, it begged the question, what was she?

He watched as she reached and gently touched the keypad. There it was again, that one brow slightly lifted and her teeth gently clutching a small section her lower lip—she was up to something. As long as it wasn't about the nanites, they would be fine. She then yawned.

"Why don't you go to bed?"

"I'm fine." She swayed to her left.

You're about to fall off the chair like a drunk." He rose from the table, grabbed a remote, and walked back to the couch.

"You would know," Keeva yawned, following him back to the couch. She took a sip of water and then slumped next to him. She watched as he clicked a few buttons. A large projection of the Green Project appeared before them.

"Any luck there?"

Tony shook his head. "Not one. It just won't come together."

"That occasionally happens to those of a higher status, your majesty."

"So, I've heard." He flipped to another page.

"Why can't you make it work?"

"Any tests I perform to have this run a building don't work and I haven't the faintest idea why."

"The great Tony Stark baffled by a small piece of equipment?" She leaned against him, her head on his arm, eyes closed. "It's part of the reason why your nanite armor wouldn't work…"

Tony stiffened and looked at her. "What?"

No reply came. He heard her breathing slowed. She was fast asleep. That was good since she looked like death; however, she had obviously gone over the schematics of the Extremis armor and solved something he hadn't yet. How would she understand that?

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Keeva heard the garage door swish open as he entered. She nodded in acknowledgment, but never looked up from her story. She heard footsteps walk towards one of the cars—the one that was always left unfinished—and pause.

"What _smut_ are you reading?"

"It's _not _smut," she responded. She heard his footsteps approach.

Tony snatched the tablet from her, and looked at it. "_Naked Heat_. _This_ is _smut_."

"No, it's not. Give it back," Keeva reached up, pulling it from his grip. She saw the smirk in his eyes. "I'm surprised you know how to read."

"I didn't think you could handle _Naked Heat_. You squirm whenever I come near you."

"You're such a liar."

"I am?" Tony slumped on the couch beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders.

Keeva rose and moved to sit on a stool. She glowered at his smirk.

"See. Prude."

"I've fallen asleep next to you before."

"How can you handle the book if you can't handle me sitting next to you?"

Apparently he didn't seem to listen to anything she said—when did he ever? "I'm not having my personal space invaded in the book. _And_ they're characters that are based on real people."

"Real people?"

"Yeah, Richard Castle and Kate Beckett."

"You think that's actually based off them, Keevs?"

She nodded. "I have no reason not to."

"People lie. You know this."

"How do I know that you're Iron Man outside of this place? Maybe you fly somewhere and go to a party."

"Easy. I'm telling the truth."

Oh, he was in rare form today. She countered, "And so are they."

"You're obviously sheltered."

"It's not my fault I never leave the house. It'd be nice to have friends."

"Oh so now you're looking at leaving. You'd go with the first guy who grabbed you, wouldn't you? And he'd be an asshole."

"Like you?"

"I see someone is feisty."

Keeva sighed. There was just no winning. "I didn't say I was looking to leave."

"Until the next best thing comes up."

"You are—" Keeva stopped and changed tracks. "Would you like me to leave?"

"Did I say that?"

"Well, you sound like you're trying to get rid of me," said Keeva. "Maybe I can stay with your Steve friend."

"Ha. Capsicle? He'd be so clueless."

"Well, maybe he can be the knight in shining armor that would save me from the castle."

"Him?" Tony chuckled. "You're kidding, right? I'm the knight in shining armor."

"Should you be called a knight in shining armor?"

"Let's break down that definition really quick, shall we?" Tony stood up and approached her. Keeva intently watched—trying not to smirk—while he did that hand snap thing that was common for him. One hand would make a fist, and the palm of his other hand would slap it and then he would bring it apart and snap his fingers from each hand. Tony continued on his little speech to her.

"A knight is a man, usually of noble birth, who after an apprentice ship as a page and squire was raised to honorable military rank and bound to chivalrous conduct."

"Well, there are many problems with that, Stark. First, you've never done an apprenticeship with anyone—"

"I served under Obadiah Stane, you could say. That was my apprenticeship."

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter."

Keeva rolled her eyes. "Second, you're not military."

"I help the military. In fact, without me, many things they know, they wouldn't know. I keep them running like a well-oiled machine. I am a huge asset so that would be my honorable military rank right there, thank you."

_A huge ass is more like it, _she thought. "And you're not chivalrous."

"You might just have me there, serf. But, since my days with Pepper I have not slept around. She made me a better man."

"You still make comments towards me that are less than chivalrous."

"Of course, who would I be without those comments? It would make me less of Tony Stark: the man, the myth, the legend."

Keeva rolled her eyes and turned back to her tablet.

"That's your trademark isn't it? Rolling you eyes."

"It might just be, like arrogance is yours."

"I told you, it's not arrogance. It's confidence."

"Aren't those two different things?"

"Not especially."

Her eyes flicked up to his. "Having confidence is having belief in your own abilities, the self-assurance or the belief that you have the ability to succeed. Nowhere in there is it mentioned feeling or showing self-importance and contempt or disregard for others."

"Believing in your abilities is the same as showing self-importance. You lost your argument."

"Being confident does not mean that you are disrespectful towards others."

Tony rocked back and forth on his feet. "Don't try—"

"Point, set, match," she cut in, her attention turning back to the tablet. "Now, Mr. Stark, find your way to your car and work on the engine like a good boy."

"I could imagine that my engine needs to be worked on. Would you like to help?"

"I thought you were chivalrous."

"Right…car engine it is." He grabbed her tablet again, setting it on the table, as he pushed her off the stool and then continued on his way to the cars.

Keeva caught herself, landing on her feet. She grabbed her tablet and made for the couch as music made its way through the workshop. With a glance at Stark, a half-smile appeared on her face. She then continued on with her reading.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"What the bloody hell are you—"

"Wait for it…" Tony interrupted as he swung at Rhodey.

His fist connected with the padded helmet on the Lt. Colonel's face. Rhodey tumbled back onto the mat. Keeva let out a small gasp, before heading towards where Rhodes lay. He wondered if she'd enter the ring.

"What's up, Bambi?"

"Why are you still on the Bambi comment? That was weeks ago!" She groaned, then turned her attention to Rhodes. "Are you okay, Rhodes?"

The Lt. Colonel turned his head toward her. "I'm pressing charges."

"Good man," Keeva replied. Tony smirked as she turned back towards him. "What are you doing?"

"Boxing—obviously." He helped Rhodes back up. His friend had occupied the house often, as of late. He was glad both parties in the room with him had warmed up to each other—sometimes peace means not capturing the other and bringing them in for questioning. "What do you need?"

Keeva's brow scrunched together. "I was going to ask about this article I read."

Tony grabbed a water bottle. "What will you do for information?" He took a swig.

"Ask?"

"You think I should just stop what I'm doing and answer you?"

"Is everything always about you?"

"Let me think about that," crossing his arms, looking up at the ceiling in thought. "Residence of Tony Stark… I'm Stark… Yep. Everything's about me."

Keeva sighed. "What do you want for it?"

"Hmmm… Now that's quite a question." Tony turned to Rhodes. "What do you think, Rhodey?"

"I think you're being a bit harsh on her. She merely has a question," he responded, promptly leaving the ring before Stark could spar with him again.

"Ah, that's it!" exclaimed Tony as he watched Rhodes exited. He tossed his water to the side, stepped over and opened the ropes. "Step in, Miss Keeva."

"Oh…" Her eyes widened. "No. Please, Tony, don't make me do this."

"It's this or no information."

"Tony, that's mean," said Rhodes.

"You can't be serious," she whined.

"Well, you left, and she's next. Come on, Miss Keevs. One round."

She drug her feet towards the ring. "This is so humiliating."

"I would never make you do something embarrassing, would I?" He smirked as she climbed in with him, then he moved towards the center of the ring again. Bouncing back and forth from foot to foot he smiled at her. "Just a play round; put your fists up."

"No gloves?"

Tony sighed loudly, turning his head up to the ceiling. "I'm _always_ doing things for you. Rhodes, hand me that extra set by the wall."

Tony looked back to see Keeva glance at Rhodes for help. The man gave her an apologetic look and retrieved the gloves. Try as Stark might, he could not remove the amused look from his face as she put on the gloves. This was going to be fun.

"Now put your fists up like this." Tony watched as she mimicked him. "Good. Now relax a little bit and feel the flow. See, bounce from foot to foot."

Her narrow stare was enough to widen his smirk. She would find some way later on to retaliate, he was sure of it—like he was sure his name was Tony. But right now, he was going to enjoy every moment of this.

"Ding, ding, begin," Tony said, and he lightly hit her in the arm.

Keeva swung back awkwardly, causing him to chuckle. Tony stepped back. He watched as she tried to punch again and he blocked. He lightly swung at her. She tried to dodge. His fist connected with her arm again. He gave several lighter punches, before she moved back. He leaned forward with his next swing, creating enough momentum to knock her down, but not hurt her.

Except she moved.

And he punched her in the eye.

He heard Rhodes gasp as Keeva tumbled back onto the mat.

"You okay?" Tony asked as he reached down to help her up. Maybe he should have given her a helmet as well. _Hindsight is twenty-twenty apparently._

"Now you've done it, Tony. She's going to get a black eye," said Rhodes, rushing to the ring.

Keeva's hand covered the left side of her face. He watched as she brought back the glove, revealing a slightly red eye. It didn't look that bad—thankfully. He leaned down, offering a glove.

Pushing his arm away, she glared as she rose—he expected that though. Shaking her head, she took on a new stance. Her arms rose in an actual defense manner while her feet grounded her. With a flash, she struck out and socked Tony's helmet.

"Whoa, didn't mean to upset you. Hey, at least you're competing now," laughed Tony as he reached to shake her hand. "I'll answer anything."

Keeva shook her head. "Let's go. One fair round."

Tony watched her for a moment before nodding. "You're on, Keevs."

He was surprised by her sudden aggression. Apparently punching her in the face was all it took in order for her to fight. He quite enjoyed the fact he had to play harder as she got in just as many punches as he did. It did bring to mind the question of what she was. What was hidden in her mind, buried under layers of brick she couldn't seem to remove?

After a bit more work, he finally got her in a corner. He was surprised how level her breath remained despite all the extra exertion in round two. He would make it easy on her and tackle her to the ground. He rushed her.

_BAM!_

Tony wasn't quite sure how it all went down—the slow motion cam wasn't working. One moment, he was running and the next he was laying on the ground—staring at his white ceiling—after being kicked in the chest. In a fluid motion, she had jumped up and kicked him in the chest. He was pretty positive she didn't know how she accomplished such a feat, since she had fallen on top of him.

He could feel her face against his right calf and her elbow resting on his thigh. Both her legs were over his torso with her feet on his left arm. He could feel her trying to catch her breath. This wasn't how he saw that last play going, but he didn't exactly mind. However, the man cackling off to the side was a real mood killer.

"She just kicked your ass," laughed Rhodes.

Tony didn't move as he shut his eyes. Maybe Rhodes would just disappear. When the laughter continued he realized it was a pipe dream. He looked over the Lt. Colonel. "Well, she puts up more of a fight then you do."

He then looked down at her, from this angle he saw she was laying partly on her side. "Keevs? You alive?"

"I hate you," she grumbled into his pant leg.

Tony grinned. "No you don't. You know you don't hate me. You can't hate me. I'm Tony Stark."

Her response was a growl.

"Do you… need help… up?" asked Rhodes between bouts of laughter. Stark wasn't sure who Rhodes was addressing.

Tony glanced sharply to Rhodes—who was doubled over—before looking back at Keeva. "Come on. Get up, Bambi." Without a second thought he smacked her ass.

This earned him a well placed kick the jaw, and another round of laughter from the Lt. Colonel.

"Asshole," she growled, as she rolled onto her back. Her face was pink—he couldn't tell if that was from their work out, or what he had just done. "I hate you."

Tony chuckled. The kick was worth it if he got her flustered. "Can't say I mind too much. Now what do you want to know?"

"About the Stark Expo."

* * *

**I want to say a special thanks to Tune's and Darkin for going over these chapters for me. They're such life savers.**

**Thank you for following and for reviewing! Your reviews crack me up. I love hearing speculations, thoughts, and wisecracks. And if I haven't replied to your review I'm sorry! Life's been busy with a new job!**

**Have no fear though. I have Theories all mapped out and it won't get pushed to the wayside.**

**In the next chapter we expand a bit on the Marvel Universe.**

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	15. When All I Ever Wanted

"_Watch your thoughts, for they become words.  
Watch your words, for they become actions.  
Watch your actions, for they become habits.  
Watch your habits, for they become character.  
Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny."_

"So, the Expo was something your father started?"

"Yeah, the old man worked on it."

"And what happened to it?"

Keeva knew she was obsessing about the Expo, and she couldn't pinpoint why. This conversation had gone on for days as she picked his brain about every _single_ detail. How he had the patience to answer all her questions, she wasn't sure. It might have had something to do with the fact it was focused on him; he loved being the center of attention.

Keeva stood next to him as he worked on his suit—the Mark VI, if she remembered correctly. He was always tinkering with something, and while she thought he should have been working on the Green Project, she was thankful he wasn't working on Extremis.

"It died with him to be honest," Tony replied.

He stood at a granite worktable, retightening pieces of chest armor. She came to the conclusion that he had OCD when it came to his suit since he was constantly fiddling with it. They had been slowly going over options for a newer suit with better flight maneuverability. She had given him several ideas, but wasn't sure if he actually listened to any of them.

"So, you didn't try to resurrect the idea?"

"I had hoped to continue that legacy and launched the Expo for a year; the year Pepper died. I couldn't keep it going after she was gone."

"I'm sorry." She received a shrug in reply. Silence permeated the workshop. Pepper was always a topic that halted conversation. Glancing to the gauntlet lying on the table, she picked it up.

"Be careful." He tightened a bolt.

"If it breaks by me touching it, then you need to remake it," she snarked, hoping the conversation would pick up again. She slid her right hand into it and attempted to lift it. Her arm dropped under the weight. "Crap, that's heavy."

"I told you to be careful."

"Without real warning." She held her arm up. "So this attaches to your chest piece?"

"That's the idea."

"And then you can shoot energy blasts?"

"Repulsor rays," he corrected. "Yes, among other things. It also helps with flight as a stabilizer."

Keeva held it up towards a wall; a tingle ran over her arm. Giving the gauntlet a queer look, she spoke. "Does it give you a weird feeling over your arm?"

"Not normally," commented Tony. He put down his wrench and walked up behind her. "What's weird feel like?"

"Tingly?" Keeva suddenly felt a shock of electricity ripple through her body, and the gauntlet lit up, firing a blast at the wall. She fell back, lucky enough to be caught by Tony. Her jaw hung open as she righted herself. With eyes as wide as saucers, she fought to regain her breath. "Is that… why Conrad kept me?"

Tony stood silent just as he had been most of the day. Actually, if she was honest, it was becoming more and more of a trend with him. She feared what he was thinking. Turning, she cautiously peered up at him. He was studying her closely.

"Take off the gauntlet and come here." He walked to his computer. Clicking on the screen, several windows of information popped up.

Keeva gently put the gauntlet down and followed him. Sitting on a stool next to him, she looked at the files he brought up. They were all familiar.

"I probably should have shown this to you sooner. When I rescued you from Conrad, I took this from the mainframe. At the time, it said he was scheduling to have you operated on."

Keeva turned to him. She scratched her right forearm. "Why are you just telling me about this now?"

"Because you were adjusting. After that, it slipped my mind."

She nodded. "I… I've already seen all this. I found it a few weeks back," she confessed, leaving him silent. "Are you mad?"

He shrugged. "I should have guessed you might. You found the Extremis files. Are you working for TMZ?"

"Are you mad?" she pressed again.

Tony shook his head.

Keeva turned to the screen. "How did you find out about me?"

He touched a folder on the monitor and a video popped up. "Rhodes brought me this video after a bombing near where you were held. There's someone speaking to Conrad in this video. I've never been able to make heads or tails of them."

She watched the video twice before clicking a few buttons. Replaying it a third time, a cruel feminine voice replaced the artificial one.

Tony looked at her. "How…"

"Threatened?" Keeva smirked.

"By you? Never."

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

Keeva sat on the couch, remote in hand. After searching for a few weeks she found a game that finally seemed interesting—something apart from the shoot to kill world. Tony sat next to her, working on his laptop, dealing with the Green Project. Keeva was just glad he was out of his workshop.

"That's an old game. How did you find it?"

Her eyes shifted to Tony. He may have appeared to be working hard, but she realized he was watching her every move.

"I searched."

A screen came up showing a male character dressed in blue and purple with brown hair. The game asked for a name to be entered.

"What are you going to name him, Bambi?"

"Link."

Tony's fingers paused over the keyboard and he looked at her. "Link? Like, that mute in the green fairy outfit?"

"Do you have an issue with him?"

"Yeah, he's a mute, except when he yells and hits pots. Is the main character in this a mute as well?"

"I don't know. You've played it before. And just because Link's a mute, doesn't make him bad."

"I didn't say he was bad. Just said he was a mute. In a fairy outfit."

Keeva shook her head as she typed in the name. She had had Jarvis darken the windows, giving the T.V. more attention.

The music on the game changed to a more ominous sound as the screen went black. White words typed across it.

"_Using the power of Mana, a civilization had grown strong…"_

She watched as the screen gave way to a seemingly floating fortress. Another line of words appeared.

"_In time, Mana was used to create the ultimate weapon: the Mana fortress…"_

A floor scrolled by as did the next line.

"_This angered the gods. They sent their beasts to destroy the Fortress…"_

"_A violent war rocked the world, and Mana seemed to disappear…"_ This time trees were shown torn down. Tony snorted.

A blue sky was next to be seen, complete with clouds on the horizon. _"Before all was lost, a hero with the Mana Sword smashed the Fortress…"_

The scene scrolled down, revealing a tree. _"Though the civilization had been destroyed, the world was peaceful again."_

Black enveloped the screen again as a last line of white words appeared. _"But time flows like a river…and history repeats…"_

She heard Tony chuckle again. Her eyes darted to him.

"What?"

He shrugged, looking back at his computer.

She turned her shoulders to face him, and questioned again. "What?"

His eyes met hers. "I played this when I was a kid. I didn't realize how overly dramatic it was."

"Like you?"

He didn't reply. He only continued to stare and she expected a quip at any moment. She found herself willing to give anything to find out what he was thinking.

He turned back to his computer. "You _would_ think that biting the hand that feeds you is appropriate."

And there it was. She had to wait a few seconds more, but he delivered—as always. She stifled a sigh. "I feed you. I should be allowed to say whatever."

"I pay for the food, and the sandwich didn't have turkey."

"That was only one time!"

"That's enough for forty lashes."

"I'm done making you sandwiches."

"You saw what happened in the Esther Veggie Tale movie right? The King banished Vashti for not making him a sandwich."

Her eyes narrowed, as his attention turned to the screen.

"Now, Link is waiting for you to make a move. Can we hurry this along?"

"Why? Are you tired of me playing it?"

His eyes turned back to his monitor as he started typing again. "There's an option to play multiplayer after a certain part."

"Your point?"

He just looked at her with a raised eye brow. Despite knowing she should understand, she couldn't focus on it. Keeva was more interested in the fact his demeanor had been more reserved and what he was thinking.

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

"You're my bitch; now get over here."

Keeva smirked as Tony moved the girl toward where her character stood.

"I can't believe you named the girl Zelda."

"Well, Zelda, get your ass moving."

"Feisty and demanding, aren't you?"

"This is coming from the master of both. Now let's go, sex slave."

"Do you even know what a sex slave is?"

"Didn't women use to be sex slaves for you?"

"Oh, low blow—"

"You wouldn't get so lucky," she cut in. The girl on the screen—Zelda—stopped moving and she could feel Tony eying her. She was positive he wasn't mad at her, but before he could get a joke in, she changed topics. "Tony, what's the Mutant Registration Act?"

Zelda moved across the screen. "It's just about mutants."

"What's a mutant?"

He sighed. "I'm not entirely sure, Keevs. But it doesn't concern me."

"It doesn't concern you?" She paused the game and turned to him. "But it's part of the world you live in. It sounds like they're some sort of super heroes."

"Not all of them." He rose and walked to the kitchen.

"They're not all good?"

"Don't be dense. Of course they're not. And we've had this conversation about people being good and bad."

"So, what are mutants, if not heroes? Why are they called that? Chernobyl?"

She watched as he poured black coffee into a Stark Industries mug. "It's not radiation poisoning. And I'm not entirely sure, like I said. I'm not an expert."

"Are they the ones with those 'gifts'? Like claws, or ice, or mind-hacking?"

Tony walked back over to the couch, coffee mug clutched in hand. "Something like that, Keevs."

"How did that happen? What are they like? What can they do?"

"I'm not exactly up-to-date with their world, Keevs."

"But you're in their world."

He sighed in response, and slumped onto the couch. He sipped his coffee.

She looked away. "Do…do you think I'm one?"

Tony turned towards her. "You definitely don't look like you've come across radiation. No extra limbs, one head… I think you're okay."

"I'm serious."

"Why would you think you're one?"

Keeva studied the invisible patterns she traced in the couch. "I can change my age. And the incident with the glass a while back. And the gauntlet incident the other day…"

"That doesn't mean you're a mutant."

"Then what does it mean?"

Tony took another sip of his coffee. "It doesn't mean anything, Keevs. People have quirks."

"And can _you_ walk through glass?"

"Anyone can walk through glass. It's not an incredibly hard feat."

"Without breaking it."

"I haven't managed that as of yet."

Keeva looked away. "You know I'm not normal."

"You thought you were?" He smirk lined the corner of his lips.

Keeva shook her head. She hadn't meant that. She wasn't exactly sure what she meant by the comment. She turned back to the game. What did that mean for her, though? What were the consequences of not being human?

"What does it matter if you're human, mutant, or whatever?"

Keeva shrugged. "I just want…" She looked at him. "I want to understand."

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

A smirk automatically formed at the corner of his lips as he heard the door swish open. He glanced up from his computer to see raccoon-eyed Keeva approaching him. He hadn't been able to figure out why she was so tired, and Jarvis hadn't been any help in the matter. Why even have Just A Rather Very Intelligent System if it couldn't track movement within the house?

"Are you worried about this brewing storm?"

Tony raised a brow. "Storm? Jarvis, weather check."

"The weather in Malibu is 72 degrees with scattered clouds, sir."

"Scattered clouds are a storm to you? I know you've seen worse."

She slid into the seat next to him. "I meant the Mutant Registration Act."

Tony rolled his eyes and turned back to the monitor. "What is your obsession with this?"

She grabbed his arm, snatching his complete attention. "What if I'm a mutant? If I am, it involves me. Reports say they're planning on rounding them up."

"You get too worked up over things."

"This is a reference to Extremis, isn't it?"

Tony paused. His eyes turned to her. Sometimes he couldn't gage her attitude. At times she was happy and others, she was serious—like she was now. _Women…_ "Keevs, I won't let anything happen to you."

"You can't promise that, Tony. There are a lot of things you can't promise me. You know that Rhodes can't cover you if people ask questions and you know I can't hide here forever."

"So what do you propose we do? Go live in the rural woods somewhere? Disappear off the face of the Earth?"

Her eyes dropped. She shrugged and shook her head.

He didn't want to admit to her that he had been following the heated debates. He knew she couldn't be a mutant, but she could definitely get corralled in as one. "Look, Senator Kelly is not going to let it pass. You shouldn't worry about it."

Keeva's eyes flicked to his, her voice low when she spoke. He heard an ominous tone make itself known. "He's one of them, you know."

"What?"

"Senator Kelly. He's one of them. He's a mutant."

If a mutant had found its way into the senate, that couldn't be good. However, would he truly be surprised? And would he truly be shocked if Keeva's claims of Kelly were true—especially since Senator Kelly had been the biggest pusher in the bill. After all, the man had recently done a suspicious attitude adjustment when it came to mutants.

Tony didn't think it was a serious matter, but perhaps these people—mutants?— should be held in higher regards. His hand lowered to the table. With a flick of his fingers, files on the Green Project rolled to the side and off the page. "Show me what you mean, Keeva."

She looked at him for a few moments and then turned to the monitor. "Jarvis, bring up the recent video of Senator Kelly."

"Yes, miss."

Tony watched as Jarvis played a video of a recent public appearance involving the senator in question.

"The Mutant Registration Act lost its main proponent today with the dramatic reversal of Senator Robert Kelly, who, until this time, had provided the loudest voice in the cry for mutant registration," a voice-over spoke.

"I was wrong in this particular issue. And I hope in time, I may be forgiven. Thank you," replied the senator.

"The Mutant Registration Act continues to draw support—"

"There," Keeva cut in.

"—from many parents' rights groups who feel threatened by unidentified mutants in their school systems."

"Did you catch it?"

"Replay it, Jarvis." Tony watched the short clip again, pausing on what Keeva picked out. Two golden eyes had appeared where the senator's had been. Crossing his arms, he leaned back. "I can't say I'm surprised."

"What?"

"I'm not surprised he's a mutant. He completely did a one-eighty, and no one understood why. He just claimed to be wrong in the issue."

"You did a turn coming back from Afghanistan, when you decided not to manufacture weapons anymore."

"It's different."

"Not to some."

"Keeva, stop arguing your point." He pinned her with a glance that caused her jaw to lock. "Look, obviously the senator went somewhere. They did something to him, and now those mutants are taking over."

"So they're evil?"

His eyes studied the glass desk, but they weren't really paying attention. Tony was pretty positive this wasn't about the mutants at all. It was about her. She was searching for answers as to whom, or what she was. He was the person she decided to ask for some reason—no, not some reason. She trusted him. She had for some time.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Her soft voice reached his ears. He could hear a nervous note in it. She hadn't wanted to ask, but she needed to be reassured by him. Was he even the best bet? His thoughts paused momentarily. He was Tony Stark. He didn't have these questions. He didn't wonder what he was capable of.

His eyes focused on hers. "Is this a question about yourself, by chance?"

Keeva shook her head. "No, I just want to know if mutants are evil."

"No, it's not. It's a quest for your soul, and you haven't figured that out yet. If I say mutants are evil and you think yourself to be a mutant, then you'll start thinking you're evil."

Keeva looked away. "That's—"

His fingers had landed on her chin and turned her to face him again. She froze mid-sentence. His fingers dropped, but his gaze kept her captivated.

"Do you want to know what I think about you, Keeva? What I really think?"

He saw a slight pink come to her cheeks.

She nodded, never removing her eyes from him.

"I don't think you're human, and I think you worry about it too much. I don't think you're a mutant. They're limited to one or two powers at most. You've shown three, and I do suspect there are more hidden inside. If I'm honest, I don't even think you're from Earth."

She recoiled quickly, almost losing her balance on the stool. "So… What? I'm some green martian?

"Obviously you're not green."

"An alien?"

"You'll probably need a work visa to get a job in this country. Or a fake ID. Someone may get you deported."

A serious look crossed her face as well as a layer of desperation underneath her facade. The need to know was etched in every crevice of her face. The rings around her eyes would keep her awake until she gained an answer.

"I think there's a reason why you love myths so much. I think there's a reason why Norse legends are your favorite things to read."

"Are you saying you think I'm from Asgard?"

"I don't know that a place like Fairy Land exists, but I wouldn't doubt if there's another planet out there."

"So you think I'm from wherever there is?"

Tony shrugged. "I'm not ruling it out as an option."

Keeva was silent for a bit as this new idea took root. As long as she wasn't thinking she was some evil mutant, things would be fine. And he had been honest. He didn't think she was a mutant. She had many traits that ruled that option out, traits that also ruled out many more things. Finally, her eyes met his again.

"That's real sweet of you to say I'm so out of this world."

Tony smirked. "I see bad jokes aren't beneath you, E.T."

"Phone home?"

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

Keeva sat on the starry granite counter next to the chest piece. Music played lowly in the background. She rubbed her arms, trying to bring warmth to them. For some reason he was freezing out the garage.

"Remind me why you're turning this into the South Pole? You buying penguins?"

"You really think I'm trying out for _Mr. Popper's Penguins_?" Tony crossed his arms.

She shook her head and looked at him from beneath her lashes. "How dumb do you think I am?"

"You? Dumb?" he inquired innocently.

Keeva sighed as she looked at the contraption on the other side of the table. It was a large square box, black in color with two knobs and an on/off switch. A hose ran from the bottom left corner. She'd seen Tony use it enough to know it was a welder.

"Isn't it too cold to weld?"

"We're about to find out." He approached the table and took another look at her. "I wish you hadn't lost my jacket."

"I wish you'd turn up the heat in here, but we all can't get what we want. And I didn't lose your jacket. I gave it back. You lost it."

"I don't lose things, E.T." He shrugged. "Did you get that box for me? The one that was in my room?"

Her fingers curled around the cold granite. She leaned forward slightly and nodded. "Just like you asked, Stark."

"I trained you well," he replied, moving in front of her, mere inches from touching her. "Where'd you put it?"

Keeva immediately recoiled, trying to increase the space between them. "O-over on your glass work bench."

Tony glanced towards the desk. "Do you see it over there?"

Her eyes scanned the bench. The brown package wasn't there. She felt rough jean fabric come in contact with her knees. Whipping back, she noticed Stark looking down on her with a smirk. "N-no?"

He leaned forward invading any bubble she had left. Her breath jammed in her throat; his face inches from hers. He pulled a box from next to her and held it up to the side. Without breaking eye contact, he asked another question.

"You mean this box?"

Hadn't that box been on the work bench? She would have sworn it was. She gave a curt nod; her voice raised a slight octave. "Mmhmm…"

His smirk widened ever so slightly.

She swallowed upon realizing he wasn't moving.

He seemed to enjoy being mere inches from her face.

"You're prudish."

That comment caught her off guard, and she saw her puzzled reflection in his smirking blue-brown eyes. "What?"

"You're prudish."

"Apparently that's the result of your experiments, yes." She took a deep breath, willing him to back up. Her fingers death-gripped the counter.

"So what are your thoughts on our proximity right now?"

Keeva swallowed. She could feel the color trickling into her cheeks. He was going to keep this up until she called uncle. She took a breath. "Th-that this is your most outlandish idea yet."

"Then you obviously don't know me."

She hated that he remained so even keeled while her heart thumped against her ribs. She snatched the box and held it between them. "I think I do know how…"

"How what?"

She could have face palmed herself, as her cheeks warmed. "You! I think I know _you_. You knowwhatImeant!"

He chuckled. "Could you say that again for me? I didn't quite catch that last part."

"Stove it!"

The fact he enjoyed every second of this made her internally cringe. He loved getting under her skin, and she wasn't sure she hated it as much as she claimed.

"Stove? Why are you bringing the stove into this? What did it do?"

Keeva turned away. It was too late to hide her red cheeks, but she didn't have to keep looking him in the eyes. His fingers brushed hers as he took the box from her. Her eyes drifted to the brown package.

Using her lap as a table, he placed the box on it and pulled off the tape. He then unfolded the flaps.

Peering in, she saw black fabric. _What in the world?_

His fingers gripped the obsidian cloth and pulled it from the box. Her head turned to the side. He stepped back and shook it once.

It was a jacket, but not just any jacket. It was the one he blamed her for losing. It had undergone some recent changes consisting of an arc reactor pattern stitched on the front. The back still read _Stark Industries_.

Keeva slid the box off her lap. "Why did you add a reactor to your sweater? You already have one."

He handed her the sweater and shrugged. "I get to write it off in taxes. Charity donation."

"For the extraterrestrial?"

"You got it."

She unzipped it and slid it over her arms. "Is this why you froze the garage out?"

"I just wanted to see how well the welder worked in extreme conditions." He looked at her. "I don't even get a thank you?"

"For blaming me for stealing a sweater you technically stole from yourself? Not a chance."

She stiffened as his hands landed on either side of her thighs. She felt the heat of his body as he once again placed his face inches from hers. The smirk on his face was extremely apparent in his voice as well—the kind of apparent her cheeks were; she would bet her face matched the color of his armor.

"Are you sure you don't want to thank me?"

She leaned back and shook her head. Could he hear her heart thudding against her chest?

"You don't want to thank the owner of the company who provided you with that?"

Ruffling her feathers was one of his greatest pleasures. She had to get under his skin somehow; otherwise, he would keep this up. "You're such a man whore."

"Is that what Wikipedia told you?"

"I've seen the list. Not all of them are respectable."

A chuckle escaped his lips. "You're thinking that Hilton and the Kardashian that are mentioned on that list are fact?"

"Well…"

"So you're inferring that I go for the slums?"

Keeva shrugged. "Could be? You never know. But I'd say you're trying to compete with Gene Simmons. He's got a lot of notches. That's probably pretty big competition."

Tony leaned back and moved to the welder; a smirk still on his lips. "I wouldn't be too concerned, Keeva. I told you. Those days are over. There will be no house guests anytime soon."

_*TIC*TIC*TIC*_

Tony startled awake. Where was he?

Sitting up, his eyes darted around. The wall of glass with the ocean behind it was the first thing he focused on. He looked down. The reactor glowed dimly under his black shirt. Covering his legs was a charcoal-colored comforter—_his _comforter. Behind him were grey pillows—_his_ grey pillows.

This was _his_ room.

His attention was drawn again by the fact every light in his room was on. That was odd. He had shut them off before he went to bed. Even if he had forgotten, Jarvis would have taken care of it—he always did. Tony squinted at one as they brightened. They were glowing far brighter than they normally did. _What in the—_

_Pop! Pop! Pop!_

Like gun fire, the lights sounded off. He fell back, pulling the covers over his head as they exploded. He heard glass shatter across the room. What had just happened? More _pops_ sounded. He waited and counted his breaths.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

Was Keeva okay?

_Four._

_Five._

_Six._

Silence greeted his ears.

He slowly pushed the covers off. The room was dark. The only light came from the moon peeking out from behind the clouds. He looked at his clock. It was off. Had a generator blown? He didn't think that was possible—especially since nothing was being worked on.

"Jarvis?"

No answer came.

"Jarvis? Wake up."

His room remained silent. What happened? Even if the power had gone out, Jarvis should have still worked. Tony had planned for as much. Was this an attack? He paled.

_Keevs._

In moments, he was up, out of bed. He rushed out of his room. In seconds, he was at her door. He threw open the door.

"Keevs!"

The dark room echoed with his call. The sheets on the bed lay flat, untouched. His heart hammered against his ribs.

"Keeva?"

Where was she?

* * *

**How's it going bro's? Hope your weeks swell! I'm excited I got this out right before my birthday!**

**Hope you enjoyed. A special thanks to those who've reviewed! (Hint: Birthday review? Yes? What are your thoughts?) And to Darkin and Tune's for looking it over!**

**Have a great week!**


	16. It Comes with a Price

**Works been killing me.**

**Thank you for reviewing. They keep me writing.**

**Thank you Tune's and Darkin for looking over this.**

* * *

"_For everything you have missed,  
__you have gained something else,  
__and for everything you gain,  
__you lose something else.__"  
_— _Ralph Waldo Emerson_

For far too many seconds, Tony stood in the empty room, staring at its vacancy. Part of him hoped that if he kept blinking, she would just appear. He knew that Keeva had been in there earlier that night. He had watched her go to bed, even tucked her in.

"_Some days, I think you're going to smother me."_

_He looked down at her. She had crossed the territory from looking like she was dead into being dead—completely ready to start the zombie apocalypse should she feel the need to devour human flesh._

_She claimed she wasn't tired. She insisted she was fine. She had also fallen off the stool earlier, which made every prior argument invalid. "Smother you? Because I'm making you go to bed? You actually fell _off_ the stool. Even at my worst, I've never done that."_

_She yawned. "No, you just fire your gauntlet."_

_Internally, he winced. Her tired eyes looked away from him; he didn't believe she meant to be that harsh. "It wasn't my intention—"_

_She held up a hand. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired. I never meant to say that."_

"_Well, get some sleep. You're such a beast when you haven't slept." He walked to the door, giving her one last glance. The dark circles around her eyes enhanced the glare she shot him, but he saw a smirk at the edge of her lips. That was all he needed to see to know she found him funny. She lay down, and he left the room._

That had been roughly four hours ago, or so he guessed.

He turned to leave and stumbled over something in the process. Lying on the floor, blocking his escape was a book. He grabbed it. _Lord of the Rings._ Why was it left out? She had finished it months ago. He shook his head, dropped the book, and left the room.

"Jarvis, I need you!" Tony called as he rushed down the stairs. At the bottom he halted and winced. Glass pieces were now creeping their way under his skin. "Damn."

Quickly clearing his feet from the glass, he continued on—ignoring the blood which couldn't be helped at the moment. He hurried to the basement. His heart pounded with each footstep. He had to reach his armor. If he had finished the Extremis armor this wouldn't be an issue.

As he reached the bottom of the staircase, he paused.

Eyes widened.

He wasn't sure which startled him more.

Where the glass walls should have been, they now lay blown out across the floor. His gaze shifted to his work bench where glass and monitors had been. They were shattered as well.

The entire room was lit by an eerie bright glow coming from beneath a cabinet. It must have been the only emergency light left unharmed. Dust hovered in the room, creating a hazy appearance—dream-like—and making the other side of the room invisible from where he stood.

Tony coughed, trying to return some of the inhaled dust to the air. He felt his heart catch up with him. It pounded against his ribs, struggling to get out. His racing mind paused as it focused back on one thing. Where was Keeva?

He crossed the next few feet, trying to avoid more cuts across his feet. His eyes flicked up to where his suits were held, which appeared as he drew closer.

His eyes widened.

All of them were gone.

That was impossible. How did six suits disappear like they had suddenly been raptured?

"JARVIS!" he yelled, the desperation in his voice sounded unfamiliar. He coughed again. Jarvis didn't answer. Where was his computer system?

Making a dash at where his suits used to be, he halted when he saw an object lying on the floor by his desk. His breath—and the dust—lodged in his throat. It wasn't an object. "Keevs?"

She didn't move.

"Keeva?" He winced as glass cut into his foot. The walls rattled with another muted rumble. Reaching her, he knelt, and proceeded to shake her. "Keeva!"

She groaned. Lids lifted revealing blurry, blood-shot eyes; zombie circles ringed them—she hadn't slept. Her gaze focused on him. Her face was as white as his couch upstairs. He noticed her right arm was bruised, black and blue—like her chest when he shot her. Small gashes lined her cheeks and skin. What happened to her?

"He's coming," she whispered.

In any other situation, that remark would have made Tony laugh. However, with the walls crumbling around him—literally—he wasn't in a joking mood. He felt as if time had stopped. A strange sense of fear crept in. It didn't feel overwhelming or terrifying. It was more like the moments in a horror flick, right before the killer strikes. But, weren't the victims usually frozen with fear? With the adrenaline coursing through his veins at the moment, it was a good possibility that it was keeping the ice at bay.

"Who?" Tony glanced towards the exits. Another rumble shook the house; dust fell like water around them. "Who's coming to dinner?"

She shook her head. "Re…or…"

Tony's brow rose. "What?"

She pointed to his chest.

"Reactor…?" Tony questioned. A nod confirmed she was switching topics on him now.

She attempted to sit up. Her eyes flicked toward where the cabinet was.

He tried pushing her back down. "Don't move. It's—"

Shoving his hand out of the way, she rose to a sitting position. Blood trickled from her forehead down the left side of her face. His fingers reached to wipe some of the dark substance away.

He saw her chest heave as she attempted to catch her breath. She coughed roughly. The house rumbled again. He pulled her closer as more dust invaded, some of which ran down his back. Somewhere around him parts of cement fell from the ceiling with loud _thuds_.

She pushed him back; her eyes widened. "Run…"

Tony opened his mouth to respond. He wasn't sure she was entirely in a right state of mind at the moment. Within the din of the room, he heard a muted sound. It sounded familiar, like a clomping sound. His eyes widened.

Footsteps were stomping down the stairs—_his_ stairs.

His head turned, eyes fighting to see what was hidden in the dust. A pair of shadows appeared on the edge of the line of sight. As they moved closer, Tony realized what was going on.

Two armed men entered his workshop, each holding bright lanterns. The lights illuminated the dust more, and made the emergency light fade into the gloom.

Five men followed, four of which were also armed; the fifth stood in the middle of the group.

"Well, this is certainly an odd surprise."

_So that's who was coming to dinner…_

The fifth man sauntered further into the room—into Tony's line of sight—approaching Tony and Keeva; glass cracked beneath his boots. "Quite odd, since the girl is supposed to be dead."

"Here in the states, we do have trespassing laws, Conrad," Tony responded.

"What about kidnapping?" Conrad questioned, standing over the two of them. "Do you have that decree as well?"

"I wouldn't consider it kidnapping." He stood, placing himself between Keeva and Conrad. "Holding a person captive is kidnapping. And that's pretty much a global thing."

"Ah, Stark, you should know better than to open your mouth for anything other than your crapulent behavior," Conrad replied. He grabbed Tony by the neck and lifted him off the ground. "There are deadly consequences for taking what's mine."

"No!" Keeva choked out.

Tony drew quick breaths; his fingers desperately trying to pry the hand from his neck. He glanced back to Keeva. She had risen to her feet, using the metal frame that remained from his desk as a crutch. His eyes narrowed back on Conrad. "You… set this… up."

"If I had, you would be dead by now."

Tony felt himself sway slightly as Keeva used whatever strength she had to ram into Conrad. Upon failing, she looked up at the man. "Don't hurt him…"

"You know the penalty for stealing, Diamond."

Tony watched her wince; her eyes lowered to the ground. Her lips pursed and he could see conflict hidden within. Apparently despite her time here, that name sent her right back into Conrad's clutches.

"It's me you want, Conrad… So leave him… And take me."

Conrad turned to her. His grip loosened slightly. "You are willing to come without a fight?"

She nodded. "Just leave him alone."

"No!" Tony kicked the air. He was unable to help Pepper four years ago; he would not allow Keeva to end up in the same position.

Conrad looked around for a few moments. He then gave a simple nod. "Then let us leave this place."

Keeva nodded again, her eyes focused on the cement.

Tony would be damned if he let Conrad take her that easily. The only way that man would be leaving this place was either in a body bag or if Tony defenestrated him—his windows were already broken so it wouldn't be that hard. He choked down another breath of air and swung at Conrad. The man's head snapped to the right as Tony's fist connected with it. "No Keevs! Run!"

Conrad's hand immediately tightened; his dark eyes boring into Stark's. Keeva took a few steps back, edging towards the other exit. Her eyes darted between the two men.

"That was not wise," Conrad turned toward Keeva. "I know you wished this to go a different way, Diamond, but others are to be punished for interfering."

Keeva shook her head; her eyes growing wide—desperate—as if she alone understood what Conrad implied. "Don't! He doesn't understand!"

"I assure you he does. And you'll find that every action has a consequence in this dark world."

"I'll do anything!" Keeva exclaimed. She stepped forward again. "I'll do anything. Just don't hurt him."

Conrad's head tilted slightly. "Anything?"

Tony opened his mouth, trying to force out words. The only sound to leave his lips was a gurgle. The edges of his vision began to blur.

Her eyes focused on Conrad, now glistening with unshed tears. "Anything."

"Is that a promise?"

"If you promise not to kill him."

Conrad looked to two of his soldiers. "Seize her."

Two came forward, grabbing her roughly. Tony watched helplessly as they pinned her wrists behind her back. She flinched, but tightened her jaw; tears receded back to their depths. Emotion drained from her eyes and her face turned blank. She hadn't looked like that in a year.

As soon as Conrad's grip had loosened Tony gasped in fresh air. With full lungs, he snapped. "Let her go, Conrad! You don't want me to take the fight to you."

Conrad smirked as he looked back at Tony. "Interesting how she's attempting to protect a mere mortal. I'm afraid you lose this round, and every one from here on out." Conrad's other hand reached up and under Tony's shirt.

"Hey now!" Tony squirmed. "I don't bat for that team!"

"Relax. This is not what you imagine."

Tony's eyes widened when he heard a gentle snap. His heart kicked into a high rhythm. He flailed.

"NO!" Keeva screamed. She tugged against the men restraining her. Did she understand what Conrad was doing? "You promised! Conrad! You promised!"

The agony in her voice tore at Tony. Despite what was happening to him, he felt that he was witnessing Pepper's final moments. It was not something he wanted to think about during this crisis.

"I promised not to kill him, Diamond. I never said I wouldn't help along his fate," Conrad replied.

Tony heard the soft sound of metal scratching against metal. He felt a rough tug as Conrad removed the reactor. Within seconds, his face paled. Pounding blood filled his ears. His breath came in sporadic intervals.

Conrad dropped him like a rag doll. The man turned to Keeva, showing her the contraption he—Tony—had dreamed up in a cave, and advanced since then. "Isn't this impressive? Something much more than you are capable of?"

She lurched against the two men restraining her, her voice gaining a few notches. "You promised!"

Conrad looked down at him as if he was no more than a bug on the floor. "Farewell, Mr. Stark."

"NO!" Keeva shrieked.

Tony raised a finger as one of the guards clamped his hand over her mouth. Breaths came short and quick from his lips. He could feel his heart struggling to pump blood.

Two guards struggled to gain control of her. Her feet kicked out, attempting to hit them.

Conrad walked past, and made for the stairs.

Tony locked eyes with her. Her head snapped to the cabinet. She repeated this again and again until the guards had pulled her into the oblivion of dusty haze.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Shock faded as she was torn from the house. Out of all the possible ways she had dreamed that going, it had been better than most scenarios. Even though she wasn't sure why—maybe it was for appearances—she continued to kick and flail. The firm grip on her arms remained unrelenting—as she suspected it would.

They forced her down the smooth driveway. Her head fought to look behind, to see the house that had grown into her home; just one final glance in an attempt to say goodbye.

She knew what she had done.

She knew this might be the cost.

She _knew_ Conrad wouldn't return for Stark.

Tony had once stated that everything came with a price. She had grasped this concept long ago, but never fully understood what it would mean for her. Upon realization of why his projects weren't panning out, she understood what would need to take place. The gauntlet had been the screaming answer.

Just thinking about that event caused her chest to clench.

Tears seemed to sting her eyes like tiny bees, but never rolled down her cheeks. She shouldn't be crying or even sad. If everything went according to plan, Tony would find her—_eventually_.

Something seemed off though. A coldness swept into every fiber of her body. Fear invaded the parts of her soul she kept hidden from view.

What if it didn't work? What if her plan failed? What if this was the last time she would see her home?

She watched as Conrad stopped at the end of the driveway. With reactor still in hand, he studied the house that now stood a mile from them. Why was he tormenting her home? Why weren't they leaving?

"I hope you enjoyed your glimpse of freedom. I have heard that Stark is quite the canoodler; unless, of course, those reports are codswallop."

A small whimper lodged in her throat. Conrad stood talking as smooth as ever—unfazed by anything. She on the other hand felt queasy and her stomach knotted itself. She had heard a word for that once; collywobbles—it must have been created due to the trembling feeling in her stomach.

If Conrad didn't order them to leave soon, he would realize what she had really done. It was already a high gamble to take in hopes he wouldn't.

He snapped his fingers and the grip on her arms loosened. Her eyes glanced between the house and Conrad. He was too relaxed, too cool. She hadn't taken something into account.

When she had planned this event out, she had assumed she was one step ahead of him. She knew how he worked. She knew exactly what to expect. That was why she had taken the risk. His look now spoke that he knew something she didn't; something she _hadn't_ accounted for.

Tugging forward, she felt the hands release her. Her mind processed that as odd. Did they think she wasn't going to run? If that was the case, she had definitely not foreseen something. She had to get back to the house. She had to warn Tony.

She glanced to Conrad, again. The beacon of light gripped firmly in his hand, shone brightly in the dying light. His eyes still remained on the house, not her. In a flash, she bolted towards home. Two sets of feet shuffled after her, trying to chase her down. If they hadn't wanted her to flee, why had they released her?

Conrad chuckled behind. What was so funny? She was attempting an escape.

One foot after another, took her away from Conrad and toward safety.

Up the driveway she flew, panting, trying not to stumble. What had Conrad done? Why wasn't he leaving? Why had she been free?

The footsteps of the two guards in pursuit died. Had they seriously given up? Maybe she would get away with this. Maybe she should have planned this event differently. Maybe there was no reason for her to leave with Conrad.

Her feet hit the level ground of the driveway. Thirty feet remained between her and the front door. Her mind set into overdrive. What was she missing?

The rumbles.

They hadn't been from what happened in the garage.

Realization dawned in.

Her brows rose.

Her mouth opened as her nose flared.

_He couldn't have._

Hot wind blew past her, as she was thrown back.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Boom


	17. All Fall Down

**Nano's upon us! Updates should still come regularly since I've stockpiled chapters in advance.**

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"_While I thought that I was learning how to live,  
__I have been learning how to die.__"_

_—__Leonardo da Vinci_

Gone.

In one moment, everything had fallen apart.

The world that had been built and stabilized for her, had given her a fresh start, had been demolished quicker than Chernobyl. In a matter of minutes, the card house that had been so meticulously assembled had crumbled, leaving the deck scattered across the landscape of her dark thoughts.

One minute the electricity had gone through an overload, the next dust filtered into the garage. She had attempted to breathe, but ash and smoke prevented that as they successfully clogged her lungs. In the midst of it all, she had missed the rumbling. Those house-shaking moments had been ignored while she was in the throes of chaos.

It had all fallen apart because of her.

A door slammed shut in the distance, jarring her from painful memories.

She wasn't sure where she was. She didn't know where Conrad had taken her. All she knew was that it was dark and cold, much like her thoughts and soul. The events over the course of the last three hours—by her guess—had left her numb for a while. As the shock wore off, every emotion her heart could muster swelled to the surface.

Pain, hurt, regret…

So many things had come to light, and each one of them spoke the accusation it was her fault.

The truth of the matter revealed she was to blame.

She had spent so long hidden in the lap of luxury, privileged to things she had never known. Days of peace had spread before her like a vast ocean with calming waves lapping the shores. Her night terrors had receded into extinction. Despite the buried worries, she had thought herself safe in the walls of that Malibu mansion. She had no reason to contradict that lull.

Even when she knew her stunt would send a red flag to Conrad, she hadn't been concerned. Her mind had been set on the fact the iron hero would save her.

That was before Conrad…

She blinked into the darkness. Something cold slid down her right cheek. She shivered, but not from the frosty surroundings.

She had spent a year with the iron hero teaching her how to live. He had breathed life back into her. He had given her hope that perhaps the world was not as foreboding as she assumed.

She had feared that the universe didn't work; that she was forever cursed. When he saved her from Conrad's imprisonment, he showed her that everything could change. She had believed in hope again. She believed in living. Those months learning how to exist outside a glass encasement had changed her. Now however, it had flipped again.

Final emotions washed over her—feelings she might have been familiar with, had she remembered her past. It felt as if every last bit of her heart was shred into pieces. Each segment had been painfully torn from her chest leaving a gaping hole in its wake. Not even the blast from the repulsor hurt as much.

The desperation to breath overcame, but not for lack of air. She felt as if life itself had been drained from her. The blood that had once pumped through her seemed to freeze in her veins. Fragments of her very soul seemed to leave her body with every exhale.

Her lip quivered. Teeth chattered slightly. A breath left her body.

She frantically attempted to suck it back in, for fear the last piece of her soul would be gone, but it was no use.

Upon exhaling, all emotion exited with it.

It wasn't a massive shift—the world didn't flip on her; she simply felt there was nothing left. It was then she realized that all reason to exist had died hours ago. In a final attempt at sanity, her mind closed itself off from those reasons and memories. Walls surrounded what was left, locking tight the gates of remembrance, along with any stray emotions.

All that existed was the present.

Her arms hung by shackles from the ceiling, her feet barely able to touch the floor. It might have been cold, but she couldn't be sure; her extremities had lost feeling with the kickback from the blast. Despite the room being dark, it appeared as if someone was shining a neon light in her eyes when compared to her mentality. If that was the worst thing about the place though, it wouldn't be horrible.

It wasn't as if she cared anymore.

A woman stood before her, screaming—shrieking so only dogs could hear—at Conrad.

The woman then turned to her and may have been speaking English, but she couldn't comprehend.

A hand imprinted itself on her left cheek. With any luck, it matched the right one by now.

Her head drooped.

Blackness swallowed her whole.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Empty eyes focused on the woman. Sharp nails covered cracked lips, digging into soft, flesh cheeks beginning to wither from malnutrition.

"Did you think you'd get away with this, Diamond?" the woman sneered. "Did you think you would ever be free?"

Eyes drifted away, staring blankly into the darkness. Or maybe they had just closed again in general.

"Are you going to answer me?"

A breath freely flowed from her lungs. There was no soul left to lose.

Nails sank deeper into the cheeks. It was possible that skin was cut, but not certain.

"If you don't answer me, I will make sure you suffer."

The girl blinked as a thought entered. _Suffer?_ There was nothing worse than the emptiness that gnawed on her.

She didn't feel the fist connect with her face.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

If the girl had a choice, it wouldn't have been to lie on the gurney.

If she had a wish, it wouldn't have been for a bright light to be above her.

If she had a will, she would be back in Malibu.

As it were, she didn't have much of anything. All prayers and dreams were tossed—and abandoned—recklessly to the side in hopes of just a bit of the sweet nectar. It was the one thing that made her forget her surroundings and sent her to nothingness.

However, she was not always privileged to that relief. That's why she was awake now. They had taken away the one thing that completely numbed every lost memory and every tear that fought to break the gates.

She twitched against her restraints. A shaky breath fought its way into her lungs. Ashes and dust crossed her mind's eye. It was her fault. Everything that had transpired was because of her. She was no diamond in the rough. She was nothing but loose boards in a mine that trapped, suffocated and killed when they came loose. Oh why hadn't the canary's song warned of this?

Her lip quivered as the dam walls threatened to burst. Tears fought their way to the surface. A fragment came to the forefront of her mind. The ground had rumbled around her. That wasn't how she planned it. That wasn't how she wanted things to go. Her lungs sucked in a deep breath. What had she done?

A figure appeared above her in a white surgical mask.

Her jaw clenched shut as reality stared her in the eyes. The dam sealed itself shut, strengthening as it did so. The memories would not slip past again. Emotions would only kill her. The breath slowly left her body as the scream was lost to time itself.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Alarms pounded through cell walls, long lost to her ears. She had curled herself into a ball on the old wooden frame. Both hands rested under her head, possibly attempting to protect her fragile black cheek from the hard wood. She couldn't be certain though.

The girl had never discussed death with anyone. Before the iron hero, she had never had anyone to converse with. Maybe she should have spoken her fears to him. The unknown was what frightened her, but she wondered if the afterlife was something to look forward to. Something in her said she believed there was life after the grave. What that life consisted of, she couldn't remember.

For as long as she had been held captive, she assumed she would die young. She had certainly been exposed to enough. There would be no one there when her body was left as a shell; no one to claim or mourn her. She didn't mind. At least she would be free.

She had dreamed once, long ago, of a white dress. It was soft, like cotton and it flowed to her ankles. The sleeves were long and snug against her skin. White lilies were in her hands. Her hair was much longer than it was now. In the vision she assumed she had gone to the grave. Her soul had felt at peace.

In this prison however, that dream felt far away. She was still surrounded by the screaming bells.

Somewhere amongst the cacophony of screeches, she had detected a pattern. Three long blasts followed by three short. It echoed over and over in her mind, a dark reminder of how detrimental the situation was if she didn't get out. However, no one was coming to save her.

The vision might not be too far off.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Another day, another pattern.

Ten seconds under, five above.

No matter how many attempts she took at breathing in water, she always seemed to survive the treatment. Part of her grew angry that she couldn't bring the white dress vision to fruition. Why was she still breathing?

At one point, the water stopped surrounding her head and she was looking into the eyes of that woman. The girl hated her.

"Are you going to perform for me?"

The girl had no idea what _that_ bitch was talking about. However, a small part of her memory tugged on the fact she knew. There was something this woman was looking for, and she could provide. If she reached out and grabbed the door handle, there was a likely possibility she could change her fate. Quickly, that part was stamped out—like an ant hill—avoiding emotion and remembrance all at once.

She could take no chances at remembering why she was here. Nor would she allow that woman to have any part of her. Come hell or high water, she was going to remain an unwavering corpse.


	18. There Lies Judas

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"_What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" said Black,  
__with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"  
__"You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"  
__"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Black. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS,  
__AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"  
__―__J.K. Rowling__,__Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_

The ground rumbled, leaving a ringing in the ears. Smoke and ash plumed into the air, marking ground zero. Dust clogged lungs and infiltrated eyes. Rocks plummeted towards the ocean, along with cement and glass. The house disappeared from the cliff-side, never to be seen again.

How there was a tree above was unknown. How there was breath in the lungs was another unknown. He knew he should be dead by all means.

Gone.

Down the cliff-side.

With the house.

Swimming with fishes or in Davy Jones' locker would have solid jokes—had that actually happened.

Instead, his body felt as if he had just gone through a bombing—_oh, right_.

There was a slight surprise in the fact he wasn't watching the entire event from an outside perspective and that there was no white light to greet him. With what had just happened, he couldn't believe his heart was still pumping. He should be showing signs of livor mortis and in the beginning stages of rigor mortis. If he had the strength, he would have shaken his head at those thoughts.

A dark cloaked figure hovered above him. When had that appeared? Had he managed to be blown to Hogwarts? Or Middle-earth?

"Are you here to kiss me?" his voice was coarse, quiet; he coughed roughly.

"What?" questioned the cloak.

"The kiss. Because I stole your precious ring."

"You've been blown half to hell, and you're still cracking jokes."

"Oh, so I'm in purgatory then. Damn, I was hoping for the Capital. Apparently, the odds aren't in my favor."

The cloak chuckled and looked up. A hand covered in fabric waved. "Help's arrived for you."

"I don't want help." His head turned toward the sea. The heavy weight of guilt settled over his chest and he coughed harshly again. He expected to see part of his lung appear.

"Anthony Stark, look at me."

Reluctantly, he faced the obsidian fabric. White swarmed the edges of his vision. "How would you like me to do that?"

"Be serious for a moment," the cloak responded. "I need you to survive."

"Not after that, you don't. I lost Dagger," Tony mumbled. The ground beneath him seemed to be giving out, falling away piece by piece. His fingers gripped the dying grass in an attempt to steady himself. After a moment, he released it. The white at the edges of his vision brightened. Would death be horrible?

"Keeva needs you to survive."

"She's dead."

"No one else could take care of her the way you _can_," responded the cloaked figure. "And you know she is not dead."

"She's as good as dead…in Conrad's clutches."

"If that's what you believe. However, despite all powers, it was not foreseen that some wouldn't buy it."

"Wha…?"

"He never took into account the fact that you would be the one to save her from much more than imprisonment."

Tony mouth opened in an attempt to speak again. The white, however, brightened before crashing to black.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He found himself looking around a mountain path. Grey mist swirled around his feet. He was dressed in white slacks and a white button-up, long-sleeved shirt. He wondered why white was the chosen color, but shrugged and looked up. A grin crossed his face.

"Pep."

She stood before him in a flowing white, short-sleeved gown. Her strawberry-red hair flowed down her back. His grin slightly faltered when he noticed her lack of smile and the intense gaze in those beautiful blue eyes.

"Am I in trouble for something? Did I forget your birthday again?"

She raised a finger and pointed behind him. "Stark, turn around and march yourself back down that path."

He glanced back. Apparently he had climbed high onto a mountain range. With a shrug, he looked at her again. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because you shouldn't be here."

"Why not?"

"It's none of your—"

"Are Saint Peter's Gates up ahead? Oh, this I have to see."

He marched past Pepper and up the pathway. She followed at his heels.

"It's just up here?" he questioned.

"Tony, you shouldn't—"

"What's it like there, Pep? Are they going to allow me in, or are they afraid I might run the place?"

His eyes came upon a large golden gate. It glittered in a light that seemed to radiate from above. He paused, trying to see beyond the gates; a slow whistle left his lips. He moved forward again. "So, where are we going to live? Am I bunking with you, or do we file for a new home?"

"I need you to listen!" she snapped, stopping him in his tracks. She moved between him and the golden gate. Her fingers slipped into his hands. "Tony… This… You have to let go."

"I am letting go."

"No, you're not."

"I am," he insisted, looking into her eyes. "Why would I want to hang on anymore?"

"That's not—"

Suddenly, he doubled over in pain. One hand went to his chest. His reactor was no longer there—it wouldn't be if he was as dead as he assumed. His fingers caressed something cold and wet. Looking down, he watched as blood spread out from his chest across his white shirt. It reminded him of those Bounty commercials, except this wasn't juice going into a towel.

That wasn't the only wound, however. Along his sleeves and pants, gashes of red seeped through.

He gasped for a breath as his body shuddered.

"Pepper, what's going on?"

She said nothing. Her eyes were wide with concern, but she didn't seem overly worried. Maybe this was normal right before you enter; death's rattle.

His vision blurred as the world beneath him spun. A screech resounded in his ears. Pain pounded through every limb; he felt as if he was being torn to pieces. Several floating white masks appeared. He felt himself on his back. A bright, white light shone above him, close to blinding him. His chest expanded as he attempted to draw a breath.

Something was lodged in his airway. He attempted to cough and breathe again. Air couldn't break through. His stomach and throat contracted as he attempted to clear his esophagus. He could feel whatever it was lodged tight. Vomiting wouldn't work.

Within moments, he was back on the mountain again with Pepper before him. He now found even here that he was unable to breathe. Turning his head to the left, he coughed harshly. His eyes helplessly watched as blood spattered across the ground.

"Pep…" He gasped. "…per."

She took his hands tightly in hers again. "Tony, stop fighting. It's time to let go. This _will_ get better in the end."

He shook his head. A loud shriek echoed through his ears, making it difficult to understand what she said. Black dots floated into his vision. He felt something grab his legs, weighing—pulling him down! His gaze lowered as a swirl of black smoke surrounded his legs and slowly ascended up his body.

His eyes flicked back to Pepper's. He tried to mouth for help. The smoke consumed him.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

_Beep…_

_Beep…_

_Beep…_

"Keeva, turn off the alarm. It's not funny," he grumbled.

Except the words never left his mouth.

An arm swatted toward the sound in an attempt to stop it.

Only the arm didn't move.

The weight pressed down on his chest again as memories flooded back into the darkness.

_Two guards gripped her roughly by the arms as the world around him turned to dust and ash. He had to reach her. He couldn't let them take her. He couldn't move, though. His heart was stopping. He could feel it slowing like a wind-up toy running out of strength._

Eyes attempted to open in a mad attempt to stop the vision, only to find that they were sealed shut. He had to clear his vision. He had to get out. He struggled against invisible restraints.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

_Damn that alarm! It wasn't helping!_ It only sped up.

He felt a presence around, bearing down on him.

_People?_

_Demons?_

_Please, not the demons…_

He struggled against whatever was after him.

_There, before him, was Conrad, ripping the life-force from his body. Keeva's scream echoed through his ears. He couldn't let them take her. He felt something cold course through his veins._

_What? _

The darkness then claimed him for its own.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

_Wake up, Tony. Come on…_

He stirred. Who was calling?

His eyes flooded with iridescent light; it was hard to take in. They slammed shut. He was partly pleased to see he had control of his lids again, but on the other hand he now felt blind.

The beeping, once again, took precedence in the room. Its constant tone was slowly killing him in a manner similar to Chinese Water Torture—minus the water. Where the hell was he? Where had the cloak allowed him to be taken?

After a few minutes, his eyes slowly slid open. Everything seemed to be white and bleached. A window sat on the wall across from him; the blinds shut tight. Monitors stood off to his left; green lines traced their way up and down with every heartbeat of his. So that was what the accursed beeping was from.

He glanced down. A clear mask sat over his nose and mouth, providing fresh oxygen. With every exhale the plastic fogged, giving evidence that he was alive. His eyes moved a bit further to his left finger which was held fast in a grip which monitored his heartbeat. Perhaps he should pull it off.

_Wait._

How was his heart still beating? By now, he should be as dead as Yinsen. He should be in the morgue or undergoing an autopsy. The metal shards that constantly fought to rip his heart to shreds should have reached their destination. The constant—and incredibly irritating—beeping was a good thing. However, it begged several questions. In an attempt to answer at least one, he looked down at his chest.

From underneath a grey-white hospital gown—covered in an ugly, small blue polka-dotted pattern—was the glow of his reactor. That couldn't be possible.

His hands moved to his chest and tugged down the gown. There, glowing softly—amidst white bandages tainted with specs of blood—was his reactor. His fingers ran over the smooth glass case, assuring him this wasn't a dream. How had it returned? He had seen Conrad take it, felt the effects… Had the cloak gotten it back? If he had rescued the reactor, then…

Tony's eyes darted around the room. Was Keeva sleeping somewhere close by? If the cloak had retrieved the arc reactor, it only made sense that he had retrieved her as well. You couldn't grab one without the other. Tony's eyes fell on a brown-skinned man in a military suit that sat next to him. His head lolled to the side as he snored lightly.

Tony yanked off the mask.

"Rhodes! Rhodes, get up!"

The man startled and almost tumbled out of his chair—_bed? Ched?_ Rhodes shook his head and looked towards the monitor, wide-eyed, as the green line ricocheted like crazy, from bottom to top. He was on his feet in an instant.

"Tony, relax. You might kill yourself."

Tony ignored the warning. "Where's Keeva? Is she okay?"

"You need to relax—"

"Not until I see Keeva. Is she in another room? Was she hurt?"

Tony watched as Rhodes took on a rigged form. He recognized the look from the few times he had seen his buddy give bad news to people. He felt his arms tense, bracing himself for the ill report.

"She didn't make it, Tony."

"Conrad killed her?"

Rhodes' brow rose. "Conrad? He was there?"

"He took Keeva. He also took my reactor. But the-the cloak—Nazgul-Dementor—helped. He saved me and her, too. Or at least, he had too. So, where is she?"

"Cloak? What are you talking about?"

"The cloaked figure that was next to me on the grass when I was under the tree. He waved the emergency technicians over. Did the response team tell you about him?"

"Tony, you were found in your driveway. Alone. There was no one with you. I was there."

"How did you miss him? Was it the black cloak at night? That might have done it. Get your eyes checked."

"Tony, you were _alone_. Keeva wasn't there."

Tony looked away. How had the cloak not retrieved her? Maybe Rhodes just hadn't found her. A thought crossed his mind. He looked back up at Rhodes, his face becoming stern as did his tone. "The house… _My_ house… It's gone."

Rhodes nodded.

"But you didn't find Conrad, Keeva, or the cloaked figure?"

Rhodes shook his head. "Do you know where she might have gone? Was there a place you were to meet in case something like this happened?"

Tony looked over his room again. If she wasn't here, then the cloak hadn't gotten his reactor back from Conrad. And if the cloak hadn't retrieved the reactor from Conrad, then what was the one in his chest? Was it the old one from Pepper's gift?

"Stark, I need to know. Is Keeva around?"

Tony was caught off guard by Rhodey's persistence. Why was he so focused on her? It was then he noticed two military personnel near the door. He swallowed roughly. Something felt off about this entire event. "Why are they here?"

His friend remained silent, eyes glancing about.

"Rhodes, why are those men guarding my door?"

"Tony, I…" he paused momentarily, and looked at him. "In light of this event, there were some details that needed to be disclosed; some things that needed to come to light."

"You told them about Keeva?"

"I had to."

"How long ago?"

Rhodes looked away. "About two weeks back."

"So it wasn't in light of this event."

"They were asking questions, Tony. I couldn't lie to my superiors."

"So you sold Keeva out? You sold _me_ out?"

"I had to."

"Bullshit. You could have done more. You could have hidden it. You did when I first donned the armor, and lied calling it a manned drone."

"This is a high priority case. She's not just some call girl of yours. She was an asset to the United States."

"A call girl?" questioned Tony. His eyes narrowed. "Get out."

"Tony—"

"I said _get out_."

Rhodes' face hardened. "You seem to think this entire world revolves around you."

Tony sat up, tugging against the cords that chained him to the bed. "You seem to think that our friendship is only dirt deep."

"It's not going to change my stance on this matter. It is of national security."

"National Security? Really? Tell me what issue for the states she caused? Was she a terrorist threat? Was she relaying information to anyone? Because you just said she was an _asset_. So that's what? A contradiction on its own. Oh wait; maybe her alleged whoring should up the nation's threat level to red. But if that's the case then there are several areas you may want to check out for _threats_. I'm sure _you_ know all about those; does your wife?"

"You didn't know what Keeva was capable of Stark!"

"She obviously couldn't take down a nation if she's screwing me!"

"You don't know what she was doing in your workshop. If Conrad did take her, perhaps she called for it."

Tony was out of bed in the blink of an eye. The cords had no choice but to relinquish their ties; alarms began to blare.

"How dare you insinuate that!" Tony yelled. "Who do you think you are?"

"I—" Rhodes stumbled backward.

Tony got one good swing in before Rhodey had a chance to flee to the safety of his bouncers. The Colonel's left eye began to swell immediately.

"That's a federal offense, Tony! I'm going to have to arrest—"

Tony took another swing at Rhodes, but the two guards stepped forward. Grabbing him hard enough that bruises would no doubt show up, they threw him back on the bed as the medical staff finally arrived. The guard on his left side handcuffed him to the bed before moving back.

"After all these years!" roared Stark. "All the things I've done for you, this is how you repay me?!"

"I had no choice, To—"

"You sure as hell had a choice. Who gave you that suit, _War Machine_? Who saved your ass from Vanko? Who?"

"You would have done the same thing."

"Shut your mouth, coward," Stark snarled, his eyes narrowing. If he could shoot lasers form his irises, Rhodes would be a melted puddle on the floor. "I'd rather die than betray someone. I think I've _clearly_ shown that. Now get the fuck out."

Tony then allowed himself to be hooked back up to the monitors. His eyes turned away from the man that was once his friend.


	19. As Hell Unwinds

**Hello lovelies!**

**Nano is eating a good chunk of my time. The rest is trying to stockpile chapters. (which has been extremely successful.)**

**A special thanks to Tune's and Darkin who look over these for me.**

**And also thanks to everyone who reads. You guys are truly amazing!**

**If you like it, favorite, follow or review. It lets me know how I'm doing!**

**_IMPORTANT: In chapter 15, the sweater Keeva receives does NOT have an actual arc reactor on it. It was a pattern stitched in. This will be corrected. Thank you Verran for pointing this out._  
**

* * *

"_We stumble and fall constantly even when we are most enlightened.  
__But when we are in true spiritual darkness,  
__we do not even know that we have fallen.__"  
__—__Thomas Merton_

In the dark, her mind could wander. It could traipse across the landscape, avoiding demons and thoughts; it could hide in the most secluded of places and avoid any and all emotion. In the dark, she didn't have to remember.

It wasn't completely safe, however. There were times her mind was pulled out of that abyss—especially when the sweet nectar ceased to flow through her veins—and the actual world came into view. She had no desire to exist in the real world. She had no desire to exist anywhere.

Those few moments where she was forced to view the world as she now knew it were beyond any horror she had yet to experience in her short life.

Sometimes, familiar eyes came into focus as someone with short dark hovered over. At other points, the woman was before her, yelling about things long lost to her. There were times that nurses and doctors surrounded her, causing her stomach to twist in ways she never thought imaginable as they poked and prodded. In rare instances, the dark man appeared, sitting across the empty room, watching her and waiting for something. Never once, though, did Conrad reappear.

Sleep no longer existed since the world turned to ash. Despite the coma-inducing nectar, real rest was a luxury granted to those who were oblivious to the reality of life. Had she been in complete control of her mind, she would have envied those who hid in their supposed troubles. They did not have a suspicion as to what true torment was, nor what torture could be.

The shocks that raked through every limb were a top reigning horror. Over and over, they happened until it seemed as if electricity permanently vibrated through every bone as if _she _was made of voltage.

Eventually, however, this became just another punishment, for in the end, that pain faded too. In a small streak of luck—perhaps it was luck—all tortures ceased to hurt. What was left, however, was anything but chance. The emptiness that devoured her carcass grew worse by the day. The emptiness slowly gnawed at her—like a baby teething on a ring—making life unbearable.

This was penance for what she had done, a punishment that fit the crime well. Anything that befell her in this hell was justice for _her_ mistake. She had severely underestimated Conrad, and others had paid dearly.

"_I warned you about this_," a voice whispered in the darkness. "_I told you, you were not safe._"

Another wave of electricity invaded her body as she was forced to come around. The nectar ceased to move through her blood stream, leaving her victim to the present. Satan's mistress was responsible for the cut off. That woman wanted her precious _Diamond_ to sit through another round of taunts and unanswerable questions.

She wondered, momentarily, what new torture devices _that_ bitch had thought up. Would it be something she could no longer tolerate? Death would seem like a friend at this point, although a small part of her wished to be in Conrad's care. Conditions had never been _this_ bad when he was in charge.

Dark eyes bore into hers, greeting her into a living hell. "Welcome back."

No words left her lips.

"How does it feel to be responsible for another death?"

Another death? No, just one unless the woman had killed Conrad now. The devil woman played these games, hinting at things, but never revealing what she was talking about. It was a sick game in which the bitch was the cat toying with a half-dead mouse.

"Cat got your tongue?"

_Do not answer._ The woman back handed her. An iron flavor seeped into her mouth. She repeated to herself again: _Do not answer._

"Oh, Diamond, how did we come to this place? How did we end up here? You don't answer anymore, and that saddens me." When did she ever answer? The woman gripped her jaw. "You know I do not like when you have stage fright. If you perform, this will stop; I promise."

_Perform? _She almost shook her head as her thoughts changed. _Do. Not. Answer._

The devil's mistress released her grip and turned from her victim. Diamond—no, that wasn't her name.

_He_ called her something else.

She felt her dormant heart lurch. In a single, horrifying moment, she realized that her cardiac muscle still existed inside her chest. The pain was unbearable as it pumped again, sending little razors through her veins; every tear becoming exceedingly apparent as she repeated the word. _He._

Using every last bit of energy she had, she kept her face stoic while that thing inside her chest burned with long-covered pain. How long had she been here? How long since _he_ had… Her breath froze as the fire coursed through her veins, creating an entirely new hell. Her eyes began to sting. She had to get her act together.

Why had she accepted this fate for so long? This wasn't something _he_ would have wanted from her. No, in fact, she doubted _he_ would have given up as easily as she had. _He_ would have risen above this. Maybe that was what her driving force was to be.

She internally shook her head. No, she couldn't allow this to spark. This flame would devour her in the worst way ever if she allowed this to take hold. If she began to hope for a better future—filled with freedom and revenge—she would only be disappointed. Quicker than it started, she stamped the spark right out and closed the doors again.

She watched as the devil woman walked to a table. Her fingers gently ran over the dented wood as she studied what lie on there—it seemed to be the only piece of furniture in the room. The woman appeared to be deciding something. This gave her a few extra moments to look around.

She was strapped to a gurney, which stood almost upright. Bonds were placed at her ankles, knees, hips, shoulders, and head. The tiny room was dimly lit by what appeared to be a light where one would place x-ray photos. Dirty, white tiles lined the entire room. A dark coloring surrounded a drain in the center of the floor. Her eyes squinted. Dried blood?

Her eyes flicked back to the woman as she turned, scalpel in hand. As the bitch approached, she caught black smoke in the corner. The dark man was here to witness. In a moment, her eyes glazed.

"_Do you want to go with me?"_

"_I—What? I didn't think…"_

"_Oh, I just hoped that maybe you wanted to go with me since you're alone now."_

_He was a liar. There was another motive behind his question._

Her eyes focused in time to see the devil's mistress in front of her. As the scalpel descended toward her soft skin, one thought crossed her mind: Who was _that_?

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He had been stationed in the room for far too long; his glossy eyes half-watched a monitor next to him. The white, bleached room was caving in on him—much as his house had. The metal cuff on his wrist had rubbed the skin raw. He used the plastic mask to breathe in fresh oxygen despite not needing it. After devising several escape attempts—all of which _would_ have been successful—he still remained motionless.

Why should he attempt to leave? Someone would inevitably hunt him down. Memories would continue to haunt him even if he attempted to start over. No one would stand by him—traitorous _friends_ had proven that. Even if people did by chance, death would sink its claws in and take them to the eternal sleep. He wasn't safe.

His thoughts turned upon Judas. That man had sat in the ched next to his bed in the name of friendship, claiming to care, to worry… _That bastard._ It was reminiscent of a Judas kiss—or even perhaps like Brutus and Caesar. The man claimed giving that information was due to the recent events—those involving his now underwater beach house. It was _supposedly_ in light of that. No. Rhodes had sold him out much, much sooner.

The military man had offered her up like a lamb for the Passover slaughter just so he could protect himself. Her blood lay splattered above his door frame in exchange for a moment of security. She would never see it coming, and he never would have guessed someone that close would betray him. Rhodes had planned it perfectly.

Was that how Conrad discovered he still had her? Had Conrad ever believed his childish gimmick?

His eyes watched the green line ping from top to bottom across the screen in a steady pattern. The evil contraption mocked him with every beep, reminding him he was alive and well while Keeva was… What would it take for the beat of his heart to stop all together? How painful would it be?

He startled when he heard the soft click of the reactor's lock. Looking down, his free hand lay on it, attempting to pull out his life-line unbeknownst to him. Focusing on this for a few minutes, he allowed his deepest thoughts to speak.

Would it be that awful if he ceased to exist?

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She slowly circled like a dying clock; a sharp crack sounded in the distance. Rope sunk its edges into the soft flesh of her ankles, supporting all her weight. Her hands were bound behind her back, slightly falling toward her head. Her ragged hair draped towards the floor. A dirty rag nuzzled itself into her mouth—as if she would scream.

Another crack resonated through the air. Perhaps if her nerves worked, she would feel the leather licking her skin. As it were, she almost welcomed her punishment. After what she had done to that poor man and his household, she was worthy of being called Diamond. She deserved every last lash.

Her head snapped left with a resounding _slap_. The devil's mistress had returned. There was nothing she could offer this woman except empty eyes. Tapping resonated around the room as the woman paced before her.

"This is your own damn fault, Diamond," she muttered. "It meant plans needed to be readjusted."

She stopped caring long ago what the woman had to say. The only thing that could change or help this predicament was the bright, white light. However, did she even deserve that fate? Perhaps she qualified for Purgatory or even Hell. What if she was reincarnated; forced to live another life? That was something she couldn't handle, and she was left begging for Hell before reincarnation.

Her eyes drifted towards a corner as it passed. Vaguely in the shadows, she made out the form. In a matter of seconds, it passed by, and she couldn't be sure if she saw it. The second time she passed, she looked closer. The dark man stood there, watching over her. What did he want? Why was he here? Why didn't he help?

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He allowed the physician to attend to a final inspection. He breathed at all the right times, said all the right things, and moved in all the positions required in order to pass this exam. As the doctor signed off on his charts, he took a pair of jeans and a t-shirt along with other necessities to the bathroom.

The man in the mirror was a stranger. Dark rings circled blood-shot eyes. Bones peeked out from the collar bone. Muscles had weakened, diminishing into something one step above Jell-O. Even after shaving the long beard that had grown in, the tired eyes that stared back didn't know the man in the mirror.

The shower turned on with a hiss as the despicable polka-dot gown fell to the ground. Another glance. The mirror revealed more missing muscle mass and a dim glow of life-support. Fingers traced over the smooth glass. Where had it come from? It looked just like the one Conrad had taken.

A step into the shower brought a torrential downpour of steam and water. Every crevice fell victim to the hot liquid, yet the soul still felt dry. Like a fish on land, it gasped for anything that might fill the void.

He wasn't unfamiliar with this feeling. He had felt it before after Pepper died. It was slightly different this time, though. He hadn't been dating the girl.

Both women had been right, however, but he would deny it until his dying breath. He had been using the girl in an attempt to save himself. He was trying to make up for Pepper's death. In the end, she was six feet under, just like Pep.

After scrubbing himself clean, he turned off the water and grabbed a waiting towel. The rough fabric lapped the water from his body, making it as dry as his soul. He then dressed in the clothes provided. Leaning against a wall, he shut his eyes and sighed.

What was he supposed to do now? His house was gone. His suits were gone. And while his company remained, his drive to run it had vanished.

His head leaned back against the wall as his eyes opened again and gazed at the ceiling.

His chest rose and fell slowly as he allowed his mind to run blank for a few moments. As his body relaxed a bit, issues came to light. His muscles ached from lack of use. His skin felt raw in spots as it continued to heal from cuts and burns. He coughed, feeling a slight burn in his throat and lungs.

His eyes turned toward the mirror. A scabbed gash on his right cheek provided proof he had been through some sort of tragedy. If he had been in the middle of the bombing as he assumed, he should be dead. His mind ran through statistics, only to confirm that he shouldn't be alive.

How had he survived then? And why?

A sharp rap at the door pulled his attention.

"Mr. Stark, are you decent?"

Did it matter if he was? He supposed not since in the next moment, whoever it was had opened the door.

The body guard who had chained him to the bed entered. His eyes scanned the room, looking for anything hostile.

"Sir, we are here to take you into custody."

Custody? If they thought he was going to prison, they were sadly mistaken. However, a journey to the cemetery or morgue might be a better field trip idea.

"There has been an apartment procured for your use. Are you ready?"

Tony raised an eyebrow at this. This was a kind gesture considering he had pretty much been labeled a war criminal. He was an enemy of the state. Rhodes hadn't outright said it, but Tony had hidden an _asset_ from them. So, why give him an apartment?

"Mr. Stark, can you speak?"

"I want to go to the bank."

The solider stiffened. "Sir?"

"A bank. You know, where they keep your earnings safe? Or at least, they try."

"Why would you want to go there?"

"You're not going to be paying for _all_ my _needs_ in this shack you're placing me in. I need something to live off of."

The soldier hesitated. He glanced in the room behind him. Looking back at Stark, he nodded. "Very well. We shall stop off at the bank. From there we will go to the apartment."

Who had the soldier been looking to? Stark pushed past him and made his way into the room. His jaw tightened at the sight. He cleared his throat.

"General Ross, what a pleasure it is to see you… alive."

"Same to you, Stark."

"What are you doing here?"

"Just making sure my men leave with you."

"Lt. Rhodes couldn't attend the send off?"

"He has a few other matters to take care of at the moment."

Stark moved towards the door without issue, despite his muscles groaning in protest. Ross followed him out.

"How is it that you had the girl so long?"

Stark's jaw clenched shut. Another vulture had arrived attempting to pick the bones clean.

"Why wouldn't you hand something like that over to the government, Tony?"

He smashed the down button on the elevator. The doors opened with a chime. Ross and the guard followed him in.

"It's a shame you didn't hand her over," he commented, pressing the lobby floor button. "Perhaps she would be safe now."

"Encased in a prison cell while you figured out what Conrad wanted with her? I'm sure that's what she had in mind for her life."

"Is she better off now? In his cells? Dealing with whatever he does have planned for her?" Ross smirked at his lack of reply. "How did you find her last time?"

The doors opened with another chime, and Stark marched across the lobby towards the door. Through the glass, he could see an SUV with blackened windows awaiting him. In less than a minute, he made it to the car and opened the door. Ross stopped him from entering.

"If you find her again, give her to me. I'll keep her safe."

Stark looked at him. "_If_ I find her again, I will be sure not to tell anyone."

The general's lips spread into a sly grin. "Everyone can be bought, Tony. Everyone has a price. In the end, everyone rolls."

Stark slid into the back of the car, followed by the soldier.

"Be seeing you around, Mr. Stark." Ross shut the door.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

With a small smirk, the blonde teller—whose name badge read 'Amy'—blushed and giggled. After being around the girl so long, he had forgotten the power he radiated. A pretty face melted into a puddle with a simple look from him. His confidence—_arrogance?_—had earned him billions. He had been a man that had once run the world.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Stark?" Amy batted her lashes at him. He was pretty positive that simple statement had a double meaning. Were all women like this?

He supposed they were. He was startled he had forgotten so much in the past four years. Plenty of women had warmed his bed for a few hours due to his charm. Pepper eventually made it to his bed, but unlike the others, she stayed and ended those days.

"I'd like to withdraw ten grand." His response sounded a bit gruff in his ears. His throat scratched. He attempted not to cough.

"Ten thousand dollars?"

"For recreational use, of course." He winked at her.

She blinked at him for a few moments; all interest in her eyes diminished, and he wondered if he had lost his touch. She then nodded and went to retrieve the amount he asked for. He quickly calculated the amount in his head. If he took out anymore, the military might suspect something. Any less, and he wasn't sure things would be comfortable for him.

Within a few minutes, she returned with the amount. After counting it out for him, she handed him the large stack of bills.

"Is there anything else I can do for you today, Mr. Stark?"

"That's all, Amy. Thank you." He then pocketed the cash and moved towards the two military personnel awaiting him.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"This must be a treat for you." Tony gazed out the window of the car. He sat next to the guard—whose name was Ben— while another one—Jason—drove towards an unknown destination. "It's not every day you get to travel with Tony Stark."

Neither man spoke.

Stark shrugged as he watched the world pass by through darkened glass. It had been a very long time since he had allowed himself to be chauffeured around. Well, he wasn't exactly allowing this, but nonetheless. "Are you not allowed to talk to me? Did Rhodes threaten your career?"

"No, sir," replied Jason. "You just have not said anything of interest."

Tony's brows rose as he looked at the two soldiers. No one ever thought that. He had always been worshipped, adorned, fawned over… Had people honestly tossed him aside like yesterday's news? It's not like there wasn't a reason for his withdrawn state. His fiancée had died after all.

"You don't find me interesting?"

"Your comments are bleak, sir," responded Ben.

Tony turned to him. _Bleak?_ "So the world has continued to spin on for the last four years without me?"

"You state the obvious, Mr. Stark," responded Ben. "The world does not need you in order to keep turning."

His eyes widened at the bold statement, and he had trouble keeping his jaw attached. The funding and ideas he had once provided them meant nothing to these boys. After all his father and he had done for them, they disrespected his family. No one had ever spoken like that about the Stark name. His father would roll over in his grave if they knew—

Tony paused.

They weren't discussing his father or his company. Ben and Jason were directly addressing _him_. They were stating _he_ wasn't needed. This concept was foreign to Tony. In the world he had previously known, he was needed, demanded for; lines were wrapped around buildings just to get a moment of his time. He had done everything possible to avoid people. In this new world, things were very different.

He turned his attention to the outside again. His reign no longer stretched across every continent. His crown had fallen from his head, smashing into pieces that disappeared into oblivion. Before him stood an alien planet he no longer knew how to survive in—_could no longer survive in?_

His eyes narrowed momentarily as he set his jaw and cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen, I'll need to go to my office and put a few things in order. I won't be back for a while, I assume, so I'd like to make sure my affairs are in order."

Ben focused his attention on the driver. Jason was motionless, continuing on like planned. Tony feared they wouldn't let him go.

Finally, Jason nodded.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

When she came to again, she found herself restrained. A doctor and two nurses, all in white coats, stood in front of her. They watched her every move. Her eyes glanced about. This room was different from the previous one. It was larger and only the floor was of tile. Again, blood stained the center. Hers? Where was she?

"Subject Diamond has awakened," noted one of the nurses, writing on a clip board.

She winced at the name.

"Seems to be unsure of surroundings," the second commented.

The doctor moved closer. His rough fingers prodded and skimmed her visible skin. "She appears to have lasting scars from the incisions made."

Her chest convulsed as her esophagus tightened. Bile burned her throat and mouth at the reminder; a tremble ran through her bones. She swallowed roughly, feeling the fire run back to her stomach. Her eyes watched as the doctor put a hand on her waist. She didn't remember being cut there. However, she had passed out after only a few incisions.

She cringed as she felt the rough hand travel under her shirt. She prayed he wasn't attempting what she thought he might. Her chin quivered as his hand reached her chest. Her mind pleaded to be back in Conrad's care. He never treated her like this.

The doctor drew closer and whispered in her ear. "I can make this stop."

Her teeth clenched and she turned her head from him. This was penance for what she had done. It was her cross to bear. It was just another payment for her mistake.

Goosebumps surfaced as his hand turned icy cold. It slid down her stomach, and in moments, she heard a dull thud. Her jaw dropped as she glanced to the doctor. He lay on the floor at her feet, literally stone-cold dead. She couldn't help the soft breaths coming from her open mouth.

Another man came into view. He was dressed in a black suit, and he narrowed his gaze at the two nurses, which caused them to quiver.

"Did I not warn him about touching her?" His voice was demanding and brutal with a thinly-veiled threat behind his words. "Did I _not_ make that perfectly clear?"

The two nurses said nothing, but looked away. They edged to the back wall and began to creep towards the exit.

The man then turned to her. "How are you faring?"

She looked at him, not sure how she should feel. His eyes seemed familiar. Had she seen them before?

"Subject Diamond,"—she winced again—", seems disorientated," one of the nurses's ventured.

He studied her momentarily. "Perhaps that shows progress."

_Progress?_ She remained silent and determined not to tremble.

"Well, you're alone now," he said softly.

This simple and soft statement frightened her more than anything else he could have said. The realization that she was truly and utterly alone in the world latched on to her like a crocodile and refused to let go. As with a crocodile, the thought of death rolled, pulling her deeper into the uncharted, murky waters.

With a look at the nurses, the man strode from the room. "The request was to put her in the chamber. Make sure that is accomplished."

The girl cringed. _Not that place again._ She stiffened as one of the nurses came forward with a shaky needle.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

It was close to dawn when James Rhodes arrived at Stark Industries. Perhaps if he hadn't allowed Ross to see they left the hospital, he wouldn't be out this late—or early. He then grumbled about the two guards he had left in charge of Stark. It wasn't the fact they were allowing the man to put his affairs in order; it was the fact they had permitted it to continue on this long.

Rhodes took the elevator to Stark's floor. As the doors rang open, he heard the rumble of the bass in the background; Stark's typical work music that he occasionally played during business hours, no doubt. Rhodes looked down the hall, past the secretary's desk on the left, and found the two guards, lounging in chairs. Apparently, this was some sort of vacation to them. He marched down the hallway.

Upon seeing Rhodes, they stood, snapping to attention.

"Gentlemen, where is Stark?" Rhodes questioned.

"In his office, sir," replied Ben.

"Doing what?"

"Getting his matters in order, sir," replied Jason.

"And you haven't checked in on him?"

"No, sir," the guards replied.

Rhodes brow furrowed as he approached the large set of double doors. He pounded firmly on them. "Stark?"

No answer.

He pounded louder, and yelled, "Tony?"

He received no answer again. Music continued to blare. Opening the door, his eyes took in the large office before him. The words of the song reached his ears.

_Better watch your back and cover your tracks. Kick your foot through the door; here the dead know the score…_

After a few moments, his eyes focused on the sight before him. He blinked and paled.


	20. Lights And Flowers

**_How's it going! It's Thanksgiving here! And I'm super thankful for all of you who read, who follow and who review. No matter what group you're in, thank _****_you sincerely. It means so much to me._**

**_A special thanks to Tune's and Darkin for looking this over. Any mistakes seen are my own fault. Feel free to point them out._**

**_As always, enjoy and review!_**

* * *

_Are you, are you  
__Coming to the tree  
__Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.  
__Strange things did happen here  
__No stranger would it be  
__If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.  
_—_The Hunger Games_

Dark eyes finally came into focus.

The black suited man whom saved her from the doctor stood before her. His body was stiff, yet he gently ran a cloth over her face.

"There are none that are quite sure what you're up too." He wet the cloth again. The cool, soft fabric ran over her broken skin. "Or why this has happened."

Her head lolled to the left; a pounding radiated inside her skull causing her vision to blur. Blinking and pushing past this new pain, she gazed into the soft light surrounding them.

The room was small, but for once fear didn't latch onto her. She saw a few bandage strips lying here or there. A rusty, steel table stood a few feet from her. A bottle of water sat on it. Subconsciously, her dry tongue licked her cracked lips.

The man looked over his shoulder and grabbed the bottle. "I don't understand why you did it. Or maybe I do, at least to some extent. Perhaps there were many reasons. Was it my fault?"

She blinked and looked at the man. He ran his empty hand through short, dark hair. With her blurred vision she swore it had a navy tint to it in the right lighting. His voice was soft; gentle even. There were no thinly veiled threats in his words, unlike when he spoke to the nurses. He seemed to be asking her questions, but talking aloud to himself. She squinted as she focused on his eyes. They seemed sad, lost, on the verge of losing hope.

He twisted the top of the bottle and she heard a snap. Her lips opened and a soft breath crept past her parched lips. The man issued to the bottle. "Drink."

She looked at it and attempted to swallow. Instead, she coughed and her right hand rose reflexively to cover her mouth. Her eyes widened.

Her wrist was caked with scabs and dried blood from where bonds had gripped her tight. Her fingers nails were nubs, with dried blood at the tips. How had she obtained that? Her eyes traveled up her arm revealing dozens more scars and scabs from countless incisions and whippings. Bile filled her mouth again and she leaned to her left.

Her body shivered as she breathed again, and she was surprised to find herself unbound in a chair. Her eyes caught sight of her left arm. Those scars from the scalpels had started on her arms, but eventually they traced their way across her body where they connected with whip lashings. Jagged breaths reached her lungs, as she retched again.

If she had been hydrated, tears would have spilled down her cheeks, and sobs would have left her throat. As another shaky breath filled her lungs, she lashed out, snatching the water from the stranger. The plastic rim reached her lips in moments, and she tilted it back.

Liquid filled her mouth and drained down her throat. A whimper escaped in between swallows. It felt as if every cell in her body became alive. Every fiber rushed to grab some of the life giving substance. In under a minute, she drained the bottle. A soft sigh left her lips as she blinked. The pounding in her head receded slightly.

The man removed the bottle from her grasp and returned to cleaning her face.

"You hold no answer for me, or anyone, at this moment. _They_ have seen to it that you do not remember easily. The horrors forced upon you are something you should never have to face." He wet the cloth.

She followed his gaze to the fabric and watched as red colored the water. Why was he leveling with her? Was he just another torture device in hell?

The man sighed. "Maybe it had something to do with Tony."

She stiffened and her breath froze. The hollow feeling in her chest felt as if it might cave in. How did this man know _him_? Her eyes drifted to a dark corner of the room. She forced a shaky breath to revive her chest. "He's dead."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

'_Better watch your back, and cover your tracks. Kick your foot through the door; here the dead know the score…'_ imprinted itself in Rhodes mind as he gazed about the office. Nothing had been touched; the cleaning crew had obviously neglected to enter. After a moment, he forced himself to walk to Stark's desk. His face had turned pale, goose bumps covered his skin, and chills ran up and down his spine like a stick on a Xylophone.

A layer of soft grey coated the rich wooden desk. Parts of the dust had been upset recently by Tony's presence in the room. A note had been left on the desk. Rhodes picked it up, unsurprised to see Tony's handwriting.

_I beat you to the punch, Judas.  
__Can you find a way to make the dead talk?  
__Can you give words to a corpse?  
__Can you make the grave give up its secrets?  
__The reaper is anything but charitable when it comes to answering those questions you seek._

_How does it feel though? To be Brutus? They called for her blood and mine, too. You joined the pack in their tirade and hunted me down. It is because of you that she is captured and I am gone. How does that make you feel? Will you be able to sleep at night? Or will I haunt your every moment?_

—_Caesar_

_The Man who trusted you._

Rhodes looked up from the note and scanned the empty office again. His jaw tightened as the realization sank in. Tony was long gone, like a shadow in the noon sun. He marched to the door, with a glare for each soldier. The billionaire had bested them and disappeared like a thief in the night.

Tony Stark had out foxed them.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"You can't give up. You can't let him win."

White filled his vision. "I don't care, Pepper."

"Tony Stark, don't you dare act like this. Wake up this instant. There are people counting on you."

He sat up and looked around. When had he fallen asleep on his couch? His eyes looked up to find his suits all back in their perspective places and his cars in a line. A smile crossed his face as he sighed. It had all been a nightmare.

"Jarvis?"

"Don't try to bring him into this, Tony."

He looked to his computer desk. She leaned against it, arms folded. She was dressed in a white business suit and heels. Her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back into a pony tail. Despite her piercing blue eyes, he smiled.

"You will never believe the dream I just had—"

"Oh no you don't!" she scolded. "I refuse to allow you to sink into this 'dream' excuse."

"But it was a dream, Pepper. In it you were—"

"You are not joining me in the grave, Tony!"

He stiffened. "It's… Are you coming to claim my soul? I wouldn't mind a Dementor's Kiss."

"No! Now wake up and get back to saving the world."

He rose. "I don't have to listen to you. I'm the boss remember."

She sighed and looked away. "This is not how it's meant to play out."

"Of course not," he said sharply. "You're dead. You weren't meant to die."

"But I did, Tony. I'm dead. And you're living, but you refuse to accept that fact. Stop beating a dead horse."

"I can't live without you. Do you not understand, Virginia?"

"You have no choice now." Her voice softened as her heels clicked toward him. She looked into his eyes. "This is the deck that fate has dealt. For everything taken away, something even better is rewarded. You just don't see it now."

"The only thing better would be you coming back."

"That's not how fate plays. You play by the rules she instates. There is no other way about it."

"Changing the rules are simple. I've always bucked the system, Pep. I can this time, too. It's not hard."

She shook her head. "You can't buck the system like that. She has pinned everyone in corners to play her sick and twisted game."

"Then why not let me die? We can be together."

"Tony, I don't need you anymore. And you don't need me. You are living in a past that has ceased to exist."

He took a breath. There had always been a part of him, no matter how small, that had hoped she would one day come back. It was an outrageous wish, but in his mind anything was possible. How could he continue to survive in a world where Pepper would never walk again?

"You do realize I've been gone for four years now and you've done just fine." Was she a mind reader now? Her eyes caught his again. "I need you to wake up, Tony. People need you to exist.

"Fate has given out a shitty hand. While we play by her rules, in our perspective corners, we can fight. We can't change her rules, but we can go against the grain, like you're so good at doing. She may have destroyed how you thought life would turn out, but she doesn't need to be responsible for her plans regarding Keeva."

"Keeva's dead."

Pepper opened her mouth to say something, before quickly shutting it. She took a breath. "Keeva isn't dead. She is very much alive and dealing with her own personal hell."

Tony moved back to the couch. Sinking against the cushions, his mind felt as if it might push past his skull in an attempt at exploding. In a moment, Pepper was sitting next to him. Her soft hand rested on his forearm.

"I know this is difficult for you, Tony. I know at the moment it's asking a lot. You need to understand." She looked him in the eyes. "There is so much more to this that you don't comprehend. There are so many things that have been hidden from you. Tony, you're not playing games with simple-minded villains anymore."

"The Mandarin wasn't simple-minded, Pepper."

Her face turned stoic. "He's going to look like a toddler against what's coming."

A snarl pierced through the garage. Tony rose, with Pepper next to him. He wrapped an arm around her. His eyes scanned the far door. Something large was moving in the shadows.

"What's going on, Pep?"

He felt her hand grip the back of his shirt.

"The brewing of a storm. He thinks I've said too much."

"I don't understand."

"That's the point, Tony. None involved are supposed to understand. The purpose is to keep you in the dark."

"But Keeva—"

"Doesn't remember anything! Any time she does…" Pepper shook her head as another warning growl sounded. "She barely knows her own name. They've tortured her in ways no human could survive. They've done that to all the key players in fate's game."

"What are you talking about? Who's they? Who are the key players?"

She shook her head again, her pony tail flipping back and forth. "Don't ask questions you already know the answers to."

"Well, why don't you confirm what I should already know?"

Pepper let out a huff. "Do you think I would be dead if you weren't a player?"

The color from his face visibly drained as his eyes widened. Chills ran up his spine, spreading across his body in a wave, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

"There is a war coming, Tony. It's been building for years. Earth isn't going to know what hit it. S.H.I.E.L.D is going to find itself outgunned. All their efforts to prevent this are only sparking what will devour the universe."

The large shadow caught Tony's eye again, and he turned from Pepper. A beast emerged from the dark; it's beady, black eyes focused on her. Four legs smoothly moved the six foot beast closer with sharp claws clicking across sleek cement. Jagged teeth broke through its lips as a growl permeated the air.

Pepper spun to him. "You've got to go, Tony."

"What _is_ that?"

She pushed him towards the stairs. "You've got to get out of here."

On hesitated footsteps, he allowed Pepper to guide up the beginning of the stairwell. His eyes watched as the creature reared on its hind legs. Its complex muscle system shone through taunt skin as it stretched. Its human-like snout disappeared behind the lowered part of his ceiling. A haunting roar emanated through the garage, shaking the foundation.

Pepper fled up the stairs with Tony in toe. On the first floor, she dashed toward one of the entry way tables. Her fingers grasped the edge as she panted.

"This isn't working… I can't speak… with you, anymore…"

"What is that thing?"

She remained silent with her head bowed. Finally, she turned to him; her face pale, a sheen of tears covered her blue eyes. "Forgive me, Tony. We'll meet again one day."

A bowl from the table collided with his head and darkness converged.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

A chill blew across her skin as the darkness let up. A lamp sat on a desk not far from her, allowing light to push away many of the shadows that hid in these rooms. This, however, did not help the pounding in her head which had double, and her vision remained slightly blurred. She found her limbs were now strapped to a chair as the woman paced in front of her.

As she blinked into the light, she straightened up and squinted slightly. The bitch that constantly tormented her seemed familiar in that flowing navy-blue cloak. The shaded memory felt more like déjà vu of a long forgotten dream. As quickly as that memory surfaced, it sank back into the dark abyss.

She kept herself from sighing, and turned to look the woman in the face. Her features, when paired with that navy color, seemed familiar in other ways as well. _But what…_ Her eyes widened slightly. The woman from the doctor's office. Her stomach dropped. Ice stabbed at her skin.

She was being followed—no! _They_ had been under surveillance. The feeling after that vision in town that she was being watched wasn't just paranoia. This wasn't luck of the draw, this wasn't something that incident had caused. It had been premeditated long before she had tried to fight back.

"Do _you_ understand that resistance is futile? Others haven't."

_That_ voice. Any emotion she had been trying to conceal, rushed into her face as her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. The woman talking to Conrad in the video was standing before her. Was that why she had been screaming at him shortly after her capture? Is that why he had yet to make a reappearance? Was he another death? The woman must have been furious at the fact she was rescued in the first place.

"Aww," the woman cooed softly. "Have you figured something out?"

She realized then, that both of _them_ had been looking at it from surface level. This wasn't just about Conrad and why he wanted her. In fact, she'd be willing to bet this wasn't entirely about her either. There was a reason Conrad had attacked the way he did. She swallowed roughly as she leaned to her right, taking a peek behind her tormentor, at the lamp on the desk.

Her bottom lip trembled. There, glowing in the midst of the darkness, was no lamp. She stifled a whimper as the radiance lit her eyes. Her jaw hung wordlessly open. _Dead…_

The woman leaned closer, whispering in her ear. "Diamond, why are you fighting against this?"

She wasn't even sure what _this_ was anymore. _This_ wasn't anything she had worried about. The amount of fear that sank its jaws into her now made the fear she had of Conrad look like a child's fear of the dark. This wasn't just dark; this was an unheard of hell.

A cry left her lips as she felt the searing pain of a scalpel tear into flesh. A hand clenched her throat, effectively cutting off air to her lungs. Within seconds they began to burn, matching the pain in her left arm. A strangled gasp left her lips.

The woman remained at her ear, and chuckled softly. "Where's your iron hero now? I don't see him barging in here to rescue you. Instead, I see his heart on my desk."

White swarmed her vision as she attempted to breathe. Was the struggle worth it? There was nothing in the world to hold her safe now. Enemies lined the path before and behind her. There was no place to hide. _He_ wasn't coming; no one was. _Alone_ did not describe her plight; it didn't even come close.

Black dots swarmed her eyes as her vision dulled. The pain in her arm receded. Things weren't going to be alright. Things weren't going to get better. Things would never work out in the end. She resigned herself to the fact she was never going to see the sun rise again. She was not privileged to the easy lives others were blessed with. Her eyes fought to focus on the reactor before all turned black.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He had encrypted every file he owned, making sure none but him could find it. Within ten minutes, he had accomplished that mission and moved to leaving the place undetected.

He had climbed out the window, onto the small ledge provided and then shut the window. From there he shimmied across the ledge toward the scaffolding lines used to clean the windows. He rappelled down a line, reached the bottom and moved to his private garage. Removing one of the less discreet cars, he had sped off.

He now sat in his car, pushing the latest vision from his mind. He could feel the throbbing from the vase recede from his skull. Had he really been hit?

Shaking his head, he gazed about the area. In the dying light, nothing appeared to have changed in the years since he had been there. He told himself the reason he avoided this place was due to reporters that had molded themselves into the gates attempting to catch a glimpse of a red-eyed Stark. They had all been waiting and watching for the cracks to appear. They lingered on baited breath for the fissures to become large. They demanded his demise. Instead of giving them what they wanted, he took that from them. In the midst of hell, he latched on to the only control he had left. If the world could not see him, they would not be able to watch him fall to pieces.

He rubbed his face, and opened the door with a soft click. His fingers wrapped around death's only gift. He stood, shutting the door behind him. He hadn't been sure he would remember the way, but an invisible force guided him, telling his feet where to step. As he passed grey stone towards the large tree, he was reminded of the real reason he never came. His heart lurched in his chest, and he ceased to exist in the present.

_The granite—Cambrian Black in color— provided neither solace nor warmth. It stood at the base of a large willow tree. Its branches fell towards the earth, but did not shield the sight from onlookers; it merely protected the granite as a sign of respect. The slate-colored clouds above shed the tears he found himself unable to release. The white lilies in his hand trembled slightly. This wasn't like burying his parents. This was something he had never dreamed of doing. With his occupation, he always assumed she would outlive him._

"_I… I've never been good at this. But you know that." Words seemed to leave his thoughts as he stared at the unforgiving, shiny-black rock._

_It had taken him days to have the perfect phrase for something that shouldn't have happened. Epitaphs weren't some witty remark he could make. He couldn't write a crude joke that would last until the end of time. It was something that had to be heartfelt. Something that described the only one he'd ever loved._

_The words finally etched into the stone for all time, drove a knife through his half-metal heart._

'_You were my first, last, and only love,_

_Selfless in every way._

_You were all I had,_

_All I needed._

_Apparently, someone needs you more._

_You will be greatly missed_

_And always loved.'_

_He felt his lip quiver as he read the name. "Virginia 'Pepper' Potts." He shouldn't be here burying her. A tear fought past and slid down his cheek. He brushed it away and cleared his throat._

"_I… I expected you to be doing this for me. Throwing yourself dramatically onto my casket, crying over my grave, mourning your lost hero… I guess that shows how selfish I am." His breath raced out. This was not a time to lose control. He took a few deep breaths. Tears stung his eyes as he fell to his knees. The lilies spilled out of his hands, scattering themselves across her final resting place. His fingers gripped the wet, fresh grass._

"_What am I supposed to do without you, Pepper? How am I supposed to… I don't even know my social security number for God sakes. And who's going to be there to make me coffee? I was _never_ supposed to be burying you. I was supposed to be marrying you! This isn't how life was supposed to work out. And there's no formula or creation that can bring you back. I've looked. Time travel is impossible! So what am I supposed to do?" Breaths heaved out of his chest as he blinked away tears. "How am I supposed to go on?"_

_His head bowed, looking to a lily but not really seeing it. "You're gone and I'm still here. After all the horror I've done, it was you that paid the price. I should be in your place. It should be me in that casket." Tears slid down his cheeks. A strangled sob broke free. "I'm so sorry, Pepper. I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen."_

Tears slid down his cheeks as the present returned. Light faded around him, allowing the moon to shine. He was alone in the cemetery; even nocturnal creatures seemed to give him space.

After all this time, he still didn't know how he was supposed to live in a world where Pepper didn't exist. He had spent the majority of the last four years barely existing. Instead of enjoying married life, he had been dealing with grieving a lost love. Was there any possible way to move on once and for all? Did that option exist?

Pepper said it did. A soft sob broke through. Even after death, she remained unselfish. Instead of enjoying the afterlife she had well deserved, she was there, guiding him, trying to give him life again.

He had spent his entire life, placed on a pedestal to be worshipped and revered. Billions had adored him, named children after him, kneeled beneath the weapon's king. After he hung up the weapon's crown, he was still revered as the Stark heir and Iron Man. In a life where he hid behind titles, he now found himself horribly exposed.

More tears fell.

At some point, he had fallen to his knees, his fingers had entwined in the grass. Four years later, he was still in the exact same position. Lilies—death's only gift—sat strewn across Pepper's final resting place. In those four years, he had ceased to move. He was now reaping the dire consequences.

Time seemed to stop, as he knelt at her grave, giving him the gift of saying goodbye. Nothing stirred to disturb him; it seemed they were paying their respects as well. He finally took a breath, and wiped his eyes. Pepper wanted him to go on. After everything he had done, he couldn't let her down. He stood and walked back to the car. It was time to disappear into the nothing.


	21. Deviation

**How's it goin'? As a heads up, works been crazy, and there are four stories being pushed out this month. This should not affect normal updates, however, you've been warned if it does.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing. It keeps me going during these hectic times.**

* * *

"_You must regard this deviation from your plan_  
_as part of the adventure that you sought  
__when you decided to embark on it in the first place...  
__Absence of certainty is its essence.  
__People...who choose to shun the mundane must not only expect,  
__but also enjoy and profit from surprises."  
_― _Adam Yamey_

White fabric covered her body. Something soft and fluffy was cuddled in her arms. Her eyes watched as her fingers ran through the fabric of a stuffed white wolf. Something soft lay beneath her; something relaxing—a mattress. For the first time in a while, she felt safe. There was nothing that could hurt her here. She was finally untouchable.

Her gaze turned to the ceiling above her. Something similar to Van Gogh's Starry Night was painted across the ceiling. She smiled. It was one of her favorites. She had been captivated by the blue colors and stars since first laying eyes on it. The wind seemed to blow through the picture in different color blues, the moon protectively watched from above; a dark castle seemed so close she could touch it. There were a few differences, but she couldn't place them.

She turned towards the wall on her left. A large floor to ceiling window covered the expanse of the wall providing light. Beyond the window, she couldn't make out anything however. Turning toward her right, a grin appeared across her face. It was lined with bookshelves. This was heaven.

A knock sounded at the door. She sat up.

"Come in."

The door opened. A stranger with dark hair, a goatee, and brown-blue eyes walked in.

She wasn't sure whether to smile or be alarmed. She swore she knew him. He was so familiar. That smirk. That walk. That glowing light in his chest. She knew the man.

In the blink of an eye, the window shattered sending glass across the room. She shielded her eyes from the impact, before looking at the damage. Something had crashed in through the window. It stood at least six feet high; lips peeled back in a snarl as its smooth gait took it towards the man.

She gasped, rising from the bed. "Stop!"

The beast momentarily glanced at her; its beady black eyes seemed to take on an ember glow. This allowed the man to back up. No. Not _the_ man—_he_. She knew _him_.

"No!" she pleaded, her voice raising a few octaves. "Don't harm him!"

In the next instant, the beast was upon _him, _slashing _him_ limb from limb. She screamed as the world crashed around her.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony startled and glanced around; attempting to recall what happened.

It had been late—very late—when he pulled off the highway into a lightly snow dusted grove of trees. No one would search for him there. Where he was going, he hadn't the slightest idea, but he needed to leave California. He was sure there was a BOLO on him by now, but he had crossed over two states on his way to nowhere. Plus, he had taken one of the less, obvious SUVs with New York plates from his garage.

He stiffened as he became aware of a presence next to him. His eyes slowly looked to the passenger seat, his head following suit.

There sat the black cloak. The hood was pulled over its face, masking what lay beneath as it gazed out the windshield. Gloves covered hands, leaving no skin to be seen. Tony feared death had literally caught up with him.

"Nice to see you awake," commented the fabric, without turning towards him.

He rubbed his eyes, muscles unwinding from his startle. "Nice to see you again. I think."

"You think me a villain?"

He looked out the windshield. "Who isn't trying out for that role these days?"

"Ah, so what is it you hold me responsible for?"

He wasn't sure how to respond. In the stillness that overcame the car, Tony could hear a soft bird song from outside the car. Even as the world faded to winter around him, something found happiness and a reason to exist. His doubts swelled about every being that happy.

"Are you death?"

"Have I claimed your soul yet?" The cloak chuckled. It was a heartwarming sound, and it seemed familiar like he had dreamt it.

Tony's fingers reached out for the chilled steering wheel. Having something solid to grip stationed him to the Earth. It reminded him everything around him was real. His thoughts traveled back to Pepper—who was not real anymore.

"Pepper mentioned there was more at work here then I could ever guess."

"She's right," the cloak responded. "There are things going on that no one understands. However, she might since she's behind the curtain."

A pit formed in Tony's stomach, the new scarring over her untimely death still fresh in his mind.

"It's not so much a new sadness," the cloak said. "It's more of a healing factor when it comes to releasing those who have gone beyond death's door."

Tony turned to him. "Have you lost someone?"

The man—or what he guessed was a man—was silent for a while.

Tony looked out the windshield again. His interest peaked when a bird landed on the hood of the car. Its chest was white which melded into grey on its back, wings, and head. Its face, neck, and a ring around its head were bright red. After a moment, the bird opened its beak and began to sing again.

"Ah, a late migrater," said the cloak. "It's called a Red-faced Warbler. They are quite an interesting species. They have a far migratory range. They often remain hidden, only to be identified by their song. The male is known to show off to keep females interested. They are also known to sleep around."

Tony looked at the cloak. "This isn't just about the bird."

The cloak chuckled and leaned back, finally turning to him. "No, Tony, it's not. What it means to you depends on how you take it. Either way, the bird should be in its new home by now. It leads one to wonder why he's dragging his feet."

He sighed. The question would come sooner or later. He opened his mouth to speak, but the cloak held up a gloved hand.

"It took that house going down the mountain side for you to wake up. Change is never easy, Tony. But it's needed. And I never liked that house anyway."

"Do I know you?"

"That's up to you to remember."

An eyebrow rose. "Remember?"

The cloak nodded in reply.

"Pepper acted as if she knew Keeva."

"That she did."

Tony looked away. "If they were friends, then how did Keeva end up in Conrad's world of wonder?"

"I haven't figured that out yet."

"But Pepper has."

"She's beyond the veil, so yes. I don't know if she figured it out, or was told. Either way, she's more knowledgeable then anyone still living. Which I assume would make her a target."

"She said there are key players in whatever's going on. Keeva's one, I'm another. I think there are more."

The cloak stiffened slightly. "Key players… So who's the target?"

"She didn't say, but I'm assuming _all_ of the ones involved," Tony snarked.

"That was more rhetorical." The cloak shook his head. "And it's _not_ everyone."

"What are you talking about?"

"From what I've seen, there are many involved. Some not as important as others; what the scheme is, I do not know."

"I got to be honest; that's not making a ton of sense. It's about as transparent as—"

"I am," chuckled the cloak in completion. "You've always thought that, but it never affected your opinion of me."

"Were you always truthful?"

"Yes, but you won't believe it. That's the skeptic in you. Regardless, Tony, there is one that's being singled out. The rest are pawns."

"Pawns or ploys?"

"Ploys. Does the difference matter?"

Tony shrugged. "This demon came to me a few months back. He made a comment about kings and pawns, emperors and fools."

"Ah, a famous quote in this mortal world. It is not a surprise that one of those would be so bold."

Tony looked at the cloak, unsurprised by his admittance of being something beyond human. "He was referring to me; which side I would take."

"Which side?"

"Whether I would help, or fall down. It seems I've taken the second option."

"You've only fallen if you don't get up."

Tony shook his head. "I was parading around in that gloom pretending to be king. They took Keeva right out from under me. I never saw it coming."

"Who's they?"

"Conrad. And Rhodey in a sense."

"A friend's betrayal is the worst kind. Makes you question who to trust."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She was pretty sure a semi had hit her while she was in the drug haze. If she looked close, she might find the tire tracks that accompanied such an event. As she gazed about, she found herself curled on a cold, plastic mat. When did she arrive here? She sat up against the groan of her muscles, and looked closer at her surroundings. From what she could tell, no one was with her. Was that a good thing?

Her eyes glanced down at the scars covering her arms; that was only a limited amount. These lined her entire body. She swallowed roughly as her eyes attempted to find tears. They had mutilated her for not giving in. Fingers traced over the scabs.

_She sat on the counter trying to hide her pink cheeks; she absent-mindedly scratched her right arm. He stood next to her, dressed in only a towel around the waist. A razor in his hand gently swiped away shaving cream._

"_So you don't have hair on your body?"_

_She glanced up to her eyebrows and messy hair. "I obviously do."_

"_But you have never seen a razor before and yet you don't have hair."_

_She shrugged. "I do have hair—"_

"_That thin layer that coats your body doesn't count. It just proves you're not human."_

_Her jaw dropped as her eyes grew wide. "What?! What do you mean I'm not human! Oh my God!"_

_He smiled with a chuckle then winced. She watched as a slight line of red appeared on his cheek._

"_You nicked yourself?"_

_He nodded. "Sometimes it happens."_

"_That would be a horrible way to die."_

_He set the razor down and washed off his face. "Aren't you just a ray of sunshine."_

"_Think about it. A hundred little nicks with little lines of blood." She shook her head._

"_After the first few, wouldn't you stop feeling them? Sure, it could be like Chinese Water Torture, but in the midst of everything, your mind would focus on something else. I find that's how battle is. Sure, the first wound or two hurts, but then you put dirt in it and rise above. You have something to fight for."_

Her left hand paused over her right arm. Her eyes burned with waterless tears. _He_ was right. They did stop hurting. _He_ just neglected to say there was something worse that took over.

A shadow moved before her and she gasped. The hooded figure pulled back his cowl to reveal the man that kept helping her. "How are you feeling?"

She hung her head.

"Listen to me," he said softly, urgency in his voice. "You can get out of here."

Her eyes rose to his.

"I know you don't see it, but you can."

She looked away. His fingers pulled her face back towards him.

"They're going to put you in containment again. When you feel the shocks, you need to deflect it back at them. I know you may not remember how, but your instincts do. Trust them."

She glanced at her right arm then back at him.

"You _need_ to get out of here, and the only way you're going to accomplish that is relying on yourself. No one is coming to save you. No one _can_ save you. If you don't start fighting for your freedom, you _are_ going to die." He pulled the cowl back over his head and rose. "I'll see you on the other side."

He disappeared into the shadows.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Flat land—with grass dead for the season—rolled past as the car sped down the empty highway. Silence filled the space inside; words hadn't been uttered since this morning when the warbler had perched on the hood of the car.

The warbler had been an interesting creature to compare him with. He was sure there were better examples, but for that moment, it was appropriate. He often hid in the confines of his workshop, and people only saw what he created. He had been rooted there for so long he forgot what stretching his wings was like. Eventually, just like that bird, he was forced to migrate.

"Who hasn't lost someone?"

Tony glanced at Cloak—or what he had taken to calling him—still seated next to him. He sighed then returned his eyes towards the horizon.

"We're all searching for the answers that none but the dead are privileged to."

He winced.

"You're going to have to grow accustom to hearing Miss Potts is dead. It's a part of life."

He shook his head. "Have you seen Kee—"

"Take the next exit."

"Huh?"

"Take the _next_ exit."

"That's not an answer to what—"

"You're right. It's a command."

Tony glanced to Cloak. "That's backtracking."

"It's good backtracking for you. It might be a few hours out of the way, but it's needed for you. You've been doing a wonderful job of driving around in circles anyhow. We've past this area twice so far."

Tony looked around. He _had_ passed the sign for Nevada twice. It wasn't intentional, but it did prove hindering when he was trying to escape. He also had the feeling Cloak always spoke double meanings towards him.

"So, where are we going then? Vegas? Reno? Or maybe you've decided we should go to Area 51."

Cloak didn't respond.

Tony slammed on the breaks; both men flew towards the windshield only to be stopped by their straps.

"What in God's name—!"

Tony turned to him. "We're going to Area 51, aren't we? I'm trying to _avoid_ the military and you're handing me over to the blood-crazed pack. Out of all the ridiculous ideas you've had—" He paused. On the tip of his tongue was a name. It peeked out of the haze only to retreat back, leaving him clueless as to what it was.

"Have a revelation?"

"For a moment I thought I knew your name."

"Don't force yourself, it will come in time. Now let's keep going."

Tony looked out the windshield. "We'll go, but I want to know something first."

"Very well."

"Have you seen Keeva?"

Cloak was silent for a few minutes before nodding in response.

"Is she alive?"

When the car remained silent, Tony turned to the man.

"Is she _alive_?"

"I…" The man paused, looking out the window. Tony could hear a slight hitch in his voice. "I spoke to her two days ago—"

"So she's alive?"

"A bit worse for the wear, but alive. They had moved her temporarily out of containment into a smaller room with a mattress pad—"

"Containment?"

"I assume you are familiar with the large glass chamber Conrad kept her in."

"You know Conrad?"

"Used too. Anyway, I told her, she needs to be the one to get herself out."

"Why didn't you help her?" Tony growled.

"If I could, don't you think I would have?"

Cloak's tone should have made Tony back down. However, he pressed the issue. "I think it's a half-assed reason—"

"Do you think yourself to be the only one invested in her existence?!"

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but found himself at a loss for words. He could hear his heart beat in the stillness that ensued.

Cloak's shoulders slumped after a time and he turned to Tony, his voice once again soft. "I cannot help her out of that hell they've placed her in. She's guarded. She's lost. She thinks…"

"She thinks what?"

Cloak shook his head, and looked out the window. "Only she can save herself."

Tony turned from him and looked at the steering wheel. There were other players in this game, others were invested in Keeva's safety, _and_ it seemed, his own as well. He started the car again, continuing down the road. "So, why the area they say doesn't exist?"

Cloak gazed out the windshield. "There's a man that you'll enjoy speaking with. He put a few things into play."

"Meaning?"

"He believes all men can be bought. And every man he's come across has had a price."

Tony cocked an eye brow. "General Ross is involved."

"I thought you'd like the chance to talk to him, _one on one_, before you take a sabbatical."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

With wires hooked up to her and consciousness unavailable, her mind didn't have to think. She could succumb to the dark, and the night terrors took hold of her from there.

In her nightmares, a kick back of what was happening to her outside of this shady prison made itself known. She could feel the aftermath of the beatings. She felt the slices into her skin. She felt her body pounding with electrical shocks.

She jolted awake. Her eyes searched her surroundings. She was in a liquid substance with a greenish tint. She looked down to see a mask on her face, providing oxygen for her. Her arms and legs were shackled tighter than Conrad ever placed on her. She could see her reflection in the tank she was in. Her face paled.

Fabric covered her chest, while a pair of shorts were slid onto her waist. The majority of her body was mutilated by slashes, cuts and bruises. Her skin was a World War I replica complete with trenches and ditches. Behind her, wiring had been hooked up making it look as if she had wings; a fallen angel.

She turned her gaze beyond her reflection and saw something similar to what Conrad achieved. The containment chamber was placed in a room with a twenty foot drop. White paneling lined the walls. Ten feet from where she was placed, stood an observation laboratory full of scientists. Her breath increased. They were watching and monitoring her.

She shivered when the hair on the back of her neck rose. Something was coming. In the blink of an eye, her muscles tightened as electricity entered into her body. It traced a path along her bones and recede into her veins. The chains groaned, but held, as her body tried to curl into the fetus position. Within a few moments it stopped, leaving her breathless.

What was the purpose of the shocks? How was she still alive from them? They hadn't accomplished anything that she had seen. If they continued, she would certainly die. Her thoughts traced back to the man who had warned her. If she didn't save herself, she _would_ die. Maybe that was the point of the torture.

She felt her veins turn cold. Her eyes drooped in response. They had pushed another round of sedative into her. She fought to stay awake. Was there a way to use these tortures to her advantage? Could she fight against it?

As her veins turned icy, her head lulled and body relaxed.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

_He lounged in the chair to the right of the door awaiting her presence. A smirk seemed to permanently line his face. It broadened when he heard the door click open. The lights flicked on, momentarily blinding him, but he didn't miss the reaction._

_Her eyes were wide and her jaw hung agape. Her gaze traced its way from the large spaceship in the corner, to flashing lights and finally to the fog covered floor. Small beeps and whizzes hummed throughout the room, making it appear as if it truly was an alien planet._

"_What the bloody hell…"_

_Her eyes focus on him sitting in the corner._

"_What did you do!"_

_He chuckled. "I wanted to make you feel at home."_

"_So you turned this into what? Area 51?!"_

_He rose from the chair and sauntered towards the door. "E.T., I hope you like it. I figured it reminded you of home."_

_Her eyes glanced around the room again as she itched her right arm. "You're not leaving, are you?"_

"_It's bed time."_

"_You have to clean this."_

"_It's not my room." He smiled at her and shut the door as he left._

He shook his head and blinked. He looked about the small room as the irony of the event had caught up with him. He had placed smoke and lights as a joke of a ship landing at the base. However, the _real_ base was nothing like what Tony had envisioned.

The ground was completely covered in cement with rows upon rows of unmarked hangars. A few vehicles were seen driven across the massive expansion from time to time, but none had come close to him. Unmarked planes left every once in a while, making their presence known by the soft rumbling. The first few times Tony had heard it, he tensed thinking he was back in Malibu.

Tony had always scoffed when they said the base was abandoned. The fact he had just broken in with Cloak's help proved his suspicions. While it was a secure base, Cloak had infiltrated it with no problem—leaving Tony to question why the man couldn't save Keeva. For a moment, he wished Keeva was here with him. However, if she was around, there wouldn't have been a reason to come here. He also wouldn't be wondering about what else that obsidian cloth could do.

Tony now sat in Ross's room, waiting for the man to retire for the night. Cloak sat in the car, somewhere beyond the border of the property—or so Tony allowed himself to believe. For all he knew, the man could be collecting a reward for turning his fugitive-self in.

He had been in here around three hours now and dozed off in the only chair in the room. He assumed it had once been a lime-green color, and was surprised to find it could hold his weight—the thing was literally falling apart at the seams. The bed was not in a much better condition; it had a floral comforter Tony was certain hadn't been a trend since the sixties. The two pillows that sat against the headboard were slumped as if they had been drinking their entire lives and developed beer bellies.

His eyes drifted toward the far side of the room. A sink that had possibly once been white sat below a half-shattered mirror. Just to the left of that was a door leading to the toilet and shower. Tony had inspected it upon first arrival. The shower tile was broken and falling to pieces, the toilet now had chips lining the bowl.

All of these things were nothing when compared to the floor. The shag carpet was brown with dark brown spots that seemed to be the catch all. Tony had observed lint, paper pieces, hair, and a few other things which he pretended he hadn't seen.

The place was a disaster, and Tony was certain by the layer of dust on the beaten nightstand next to the bed that Ross didn't stay here often, if at all. He worried that Cloak had led him into a trap. The entire room reminded him of a cheap motel room—which he found odd—and he knew he wouldn't have brought any woman here, let alone Keeva.

He became alert when the door softly clicked open. The light in the room clicked on. Ross shut the door, turned and gaped.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

When the sedative receded from her system, she found herself strapped to an upright gurney. Her eyes attempted to focus on a face in front of her.

"Conrad…?" Her voice sounded foreign in her ears; weak and rough from lack of use. How long had she been out? When had he gotten here? When had _she_ gotten here?

Her old captor held a scalpel in one hand and her right wrist in another—she felt the need to scratch it. His brown eyes—_Brown?_—watched her then looked at her wrist. She tried to pull back.

"Stop," she pleaded softly. A small part of her, however, was curious. "What are you doing?"

"Providing you with a fighting chance," he responded. One hand slid up to her mouth and covered it while the other used the scalpel to slice into her forearm near the wrist. A cry was muffled from under his hand as he dropped the scalpel with a satisfied _ting_. She watched as both hands moved to the incision.

While he prodded the incision, she felt a few tears slip from her eyes. Her body tensed; stomach ready to heave more bile. She looked at the newest wound.

A grin crossed his face as he shifted flesh and muscle. A whimper echoed in her throat as she watched his fingers move in between the radius and ulna. A soft gasp left her lips as another tear slid down her cheek. An eye brow then rose as he pulled back.

His fingers withdrew a metal pin. She swore it was tinted purple, but the lighting in the room was dim. A gleam crossed his eyes as he looked up.

"W-w-why?" she managed.

Conrad pressed a hand to the wound causing her to stiffen and suck in a sharp breath. Warmth began to spread from her arm across her limbs. In moments, relief flooded every part of her body.

"I'm providing you with a fighting opportunity. Those cowards will never face you in full glory," he whispered softly, the smirk never leaving his lips. "Now, you are much more of a competitor."

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"If everyone believes you not to be a threat, why not confirm their assumptions?"

Keeva paused for a moment. Those eyes, that look… "You remind me of someone."

"Who might that be?"

"That crazy clown in the Batman comics."

The smirk widened across his face. "Or does the clown remind you of me?"


	22. Uncharted

**How's it going?**

**My computer went down for a few days, and I've been busy with several Christmas fics. Two of them are Avengers fics. Check 'em out while you're waiting on another update!**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know!**

* * *

"_...don't be afraid of going by a way you've never gone  
_—_that's the way we're all going..."  
__―__John Geddes_

"Stark." Ross shifted towards the bed. "What brings you here?"

Tony shrugged. "Nice place you got here. Is this the best that the military could offer to one of its _finest_?"

He watched as the general sat down on the bed; the springs groaned in protest. "I don't stay here often."

"And here I was thinking this was your humble abode. It's really rather lovely. Bring a lot of company here?"

"What is it that you want, Stark?"

"To have a chat in this 70's era room. Is there a disco ball that comes out of the ceiling?"

"Fine, Stark. We'll _chat_. How long did you have her? Where did you find her?"

Tony felt his control of the room slowly slipping—like a pan falling in slow motion. "You're looking for specifics?"

"Not exactly," sighed the general, as he tried to rub the bags out from under his eyes. "Just tell me where she is."

A brow almost rose. Why was the general so tired? "If I knew, Ross, do you think I would be sitting in this room talking with you?"

"I take it she warmed your bed for a few nights, _hero_."

Tony tensed. The pan seemed to tumble in midair in its descent. "I'm a bit curious as to why you're after her. Aren't you supposed to be off chasing the Gamma Man, Big Green Giant, whatever you call him?"

"Now is not a time for your jokes."

He smirked, knowing the frying pan had been caught by him. "Who said anything about jokes? I have a few questions for the Jolly Green Giant actually, like why his vegetables tend to be overpriced. I'm hoping he'll cut me a deal."

Ross's eyes narrowed. "Enough!"

"That's what I'd like to say to him!"

"Mr. Stark, if you really wanted to talk then you would tell me where the subject is."

Tony's eyes narrowed on Ross. "Subject?"

"Yes, the subject."

"She's not something to be studied and treated."

"But she's a warm body that hasn't figured out your true colors yet. Lt. Colonel Rhodes said she was just another pretty face keeping you… _pleasured_ because she apparently knows how to spre—"

"The Lt. Colonel doesn't know what he's talking about," Tony snapped and rose from the chair. Was his legacy the fact he had once been a playboy? Was that all the world thought of him? "If I was bedding her, it would be none of yours—or anyone else's—business. And apparently we have nothing to talk about."

"We are not done until I say so."

"Considering I'm the one who called this meeting, I say when it's over."

"Just because I brought up what your whore does? I'm surprised Tony Stark is so affected by this. How many women have you made scream your name? Considering how long you had her, I'm sure she got good use of her lungs. I take it you found something that kept you occupied for a long time."

Tony's teeth ground as he made for the door. If this was the reason Cloak sent him in here, he was going to receive an earful and a punch to the face.

"Do you know why James was so willing to plunge a dagger into your back?"

He froze with his hand on the door knob.

"He's been in your shadow for years. He wanted to shine."

"You're lying."

The general shrugged. "You've caught me. But here's a good one. When you have certain pictures of a man who loves his wife, but has made a few poor decisions thanks to _your_ alcoholic tendencies, he'll do anything to keep his family together."

In his mind, Tony could hear the pan clatter to the floor as all power drained from him, leaving him feeling small. In an effort to cover this, he glanced back. "You're very lucky right now, Ross."

"If I had the girl I would agree."

Tony walked to him. "Look _Thaddeus_, when I find her if you ever come near her, I'll make you regret your big green giant not killing you. Do you understand me?"

When the general had no reply, he turned back towards the door. As the handle turned under his hand, he paused. "And what you did to Rhodey… There's a saying that goes 'as _you_ do _unto_ others, it _will__ be done_ to _you_, _tenfold_.' Be expecting that, because Karma's a bitch and she always collects."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Grey mist enveloped her, kissing her skin softly. It flowed around her like a river, gently guiding her forward into the unknown. It swirled in a whirlpool at one point, tenderly pulling her deeper into the darkness. As her sight adjusted to the darker surroundings, she felt a hand grab hers. Her eyes flicked to the right.

He was dressed in a handsome black suit. His dark eyes and hair reminded her of an old friend she couldn't remember. She thought she had seen him before. Glimpses of a workshop and windows flashed through her mind.

"Angel of Death."

"Not quite." His voice was soft as if speaking to a sleepy child.

"Do you intend to be the Grim Reaper then?"

He shook his head. "Come with me."

"Why?"

"I intend to give you life."

She glanced behind her. "I can't."

"Why is that, little one?"

Her eyes turned to him. He shouldn't call her that name.

"You would care for mortals?" he questioned.

"I have no reason not to."

"Do you believe yourself equal to them?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He shook his head. "Oh, the things you have forgotten. You are so much more."

Her eyes shut as she turned her face from him.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony found it odd that he walked back to the car with relatively no problem. He climbed in the passenger seat, and tossed a questioning glance towards Cloak.

The man shrugged. "Quiet night. Guards are probably sleeping in their stations."

Despite being curious about why no one had approached him, Tony knew it was better not to ask questions. Whoever was under the fabric was not someone he did not want to confront without a suit—or possibly even with one.

"So, where are we headed?"

Cloak turned on the car, and headed out onto the highway. "Just enjoy the ride, Tony. It will be the last time you see this part of the country for a while."

"Are you taking me hostage?"

"I'm taking you half way to your destination."

"I never agreed on a place."

"But you will. It's what's best for you."

Tony looked out the window. "And you know what's best for me."

"At this moment, yes."

"How would you know?"

"Because we know each other, or we used too."

He blinked a few times while watching the dark world roll by. Things weren't becoming any clearer. Each time more information came up, it only lead to more questions and assumptions. Tony didn't understand why some were privileged to more information than others. He also didn't care for the fact that ones with more information hid it.

_She yawned. "I don't understand."_

"_Understand what?" Her head lay on a pillow which touched his right thigh. She watched the reports appearing on the television screen._

"_Why they don't tell all the facts. There's obviously more to the Mutant Registration Act then politicians care to say aloud. Why aren't people honest?"_

"_That's rich coming from you, E.T."_

_She smiled. "I would like to think I have a legitimate reason for not saying anything."_

"_Just because of Conrad?"_

_She yawned. "I was handcuffed for how long by you?"_

"_Safety reasons. Anyone would have done it."_

_He heard her chuckle. She rolled onto her back and looked up at him. "What if this turns into something more?"_

_He stiffened. "What?"_

"_This registration act. Mutants are just the first step. It sounds like segregation at the moment, but what if it becomes more? What if they decide stopping at mutants isn't enough?"_

_His shoulders slumped as a breath he didn't realize he had been holding released. "Where would they go after mutants?"_

"_Superheroes."_

_He chuckled. "Calm down, E.T. They're not forming a lynch mob over mutants—"_

"_**Yet**__. But nonetheless, what happens when they do?"_

"_You're a conspiracy theorist, aren't you?"_

"_No, I just don't understand why they're not more honest. Maybe then they wouldn't need the registration act, and people would feel safer. Obviously mortals don't like what they don't understand."_

"_Oh, so everyone has been termed mortals now?"_

_She smiled and yawned. "Yes, mortals that hide the truth, which in turn damages lives."_

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

In the beat of a heart, he was softly speaking into her ear. "Come away little lamb. Come away from the slaughter that will befall you."

His dark brown eyes—rich and comforting—moved in front of her bringing with them a lull to her tired spirit. Perhaps she should continue to follow.

"The world is against you. I have told you this before. You have yet to listen."

She broke contact and looked behind her. Her brow furrowed. Why was it that she had to follow him? Why couldn't she go back? Wasn't it her choice?

"No," he whispered into her ear. "Only death calls for you there. They have already shown that. You were betrayed."

She turned to him again. _Betrayed…_

"You did not deserve what they did. The cruel ways people—_mortals_—have used you is something you should never have to deal with. If you follow me, I will protect you. I will never allow them to harm you. You will never worry about disobeying again. You will never worry about pain again. You will never worry about betrayal _ever_ again." His fingers intertwined with hers.

The beats of her heart counted the seconds as she contemplated this offer. For the first time in a long while, she felt safe. She felt as if he could protect her. Never again would she be hurt. If she found a way back, however, it could mean the end of her. Her fingers tightened on his.

He pulled her gently into the mist; it enveloped around her like a protective blanket. As she walked through the grey, the few memories she had receded into the distance. Behind her ceased to exist.

"This _is_ best for everyone. This is best for _you_."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony felt the subtle change in speed as the SUV pulled off the freeway. A quick glance towards the dashboard revealed an orange gas light glowing brightly in the dark. A turn to the clock showed it was just after midnight. As the lights of the gas station came into view, his stomach growled as if it knew what this could mean.

He remained motionless as the car came to a halt at a pump.

"Go get some food. You need it." Cloak got out and walked to the small store.

The door opened with a click and Tony stood. Every muscle screeched in pain. Perhaps he should have stayed in the hospital an extra day or two. As he moved, all his joints groaned from being seated in the same place. He heard the scratch of his feet against the pavement as he made for the store. The door opened with the tinkle of a bell. The attendant was too busy staring at the hooded figure before him to notice his entrance. How was it that the man dressed as death could masquerade around like that? Why hadn't someone called the cops?

Shaking his head, he wandered through the small store, picking up snack items. His stomach seemed to groan in protest at the thought of gas station food. Beggars can't be choosers though, right?

After getting several items of interest, and avoiding the coffee—which looked like clumped mud—he approached the register. He placed the items on the counter and watched as they rang up with loud _dings_. It reminded him of the heart monitor. A case of water started the parade. It was followed quickly by donuts, cashews, a bag of Doritos and lastly Cheetos.

"_You bought me Cheetos?" she laughed. Her eyes lit up as she grabbed the orange puffs. "Thanks, Tony!"_

He shook his head as he paid the man. If he didn't start sleeping and attempting to get his mind off of her, she would become just like Pepper. Before he knew it, she would be walking around talking to him. She would be real to him, just like Pepper was, despite the issue of her death. How long had he been this mentally screwed up?

He walked back to the SUV and climbed in. He slouched in the seat as a squeegee ran back and forth across the windows. It seemed as if it was attempting to hypnotize him. He turned from the sight and grabbed the Cheetos. He pulled the bag opened and popped a puff in his mouth.

A few moments later, Cloak climbed back in the car and started the engine. Tony saw him glance at the Cheetos, and a momentary hesitation became apparent. Without a word, he turned back to the road and continued down the freeway.

Several puffs into the bag, Tony placed them on the floor. In the midst of everything, he realized his stomach may be saying it was hungry, but he truly wasn't.

"May I have a bottle of water?"

Tony reached down and grabbed a bottle. He clicked open the top and handed it to Cloak. When the bottle wasn't grabbed from his grasp, he looked over.

Cloak had both hands on the steering wheel, and was facing straight ahead. He noticed the gloves were gone.

"Hey, Cloak. You okay? Do I need to drive?"

Cloak reached a hand up and pulled back the black cowl. He then took the water. "I'm fine."

Tony was surprised to see the man under the hood. His hair was dark—maybe black or a dark brown. In the faint light reflecting back from the headlights it looked like a dark blue glow—like a Viking gas stove turned on—flickered through his hair every so often. He rubbed his eyes. That last part could have been his tired eyes playing tricks on him.

After taking a few sips, Cloak sighed as he placed the bottle in the cup holder.

"So, you're not a skeleton," Tony ventured.

He was met with green eyes—jade in color—and a smirk. "No, I'm very much alive."

Tony shrugged. "That's a good thing I suppose."

"Where'd all you humor go, Stark?"

He found it strange that his body winced at his last name. "Several places: down the cliff side, at the bank, with the soldiers, in Ross's ugly motel room…"

"I don't know if I ever remember a time where you lost your humor."

"Well, forgive me for not being more of a comedian. I haven't slept and I'm stuck in a car with someone I can't remember. It hasn't been a day in paradise." Tony turned toward the window.

"You didn't tell me what you said to Ross."

"Should I have?" he muttered and sighed. "Asked him why he was so concerned with Keeva."

"That's a valid question."

Tony looked at him. "Why are people so concerned with her?"

"Why are _you_ so concerned with her?"

He shrugged. "She needed help, but not everyone feels the same. Nor do they believe that I'm only keeping her save."

"No?"

"I've heard a remark or two about the fact I may or may not have shared a bed with her."

"And have you?"

"Well, I am the poster child for seduction techniques."

Jade eyes pinned him with a look. Tony could almost feel the car turn icy as goose bumps rose on his skin.

"It was a joke. Calm down. Nothing happened."

A small smirk spread across Cloak's face as Tony's goose bumps receded. "I didn't think you would have."

"_Theoretically_, let's say I had. What would you have done?"

"The last man that tried ended up dead without knowing what hit him. _Theoretically_ of course."

"Well, I haven't laid a hand on her." When the man didn't respond, Tony continued. "I wouldn't. Just so you know. And what's your interest in her anyhow?"

"Keeping her safe."

"Bodyguard?"

The man nodded. "Now that I've found her again."

Tony's brow crinkled. "But that doesn't make any sense. You didn't know where she was, you can't save her now; how is it that you're her protector?"

"There are some things, Tony, that will be explained much later down the road. Giving answers now would be confusing when all the details are hidden."

He clenched his teeth. Cloak was treating him like he was a child. He wasn't.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Her eyes opened. The grey mist reminded her of the ocean tides, washing over her then coaxing her further along this path. She paused. _An ocean?_

She forced herself to follow him as images lapped into her memory. A house, large glass windows, the ocean…

"How are you holding up?" he whispered, gently claiming her hand in his. "Time is once again, against you."

Why was everything against her? Was the world truly out to get her? A jolt of pain slashed down her back and she paused again; her eyes lost in the grey world.

_A flash of light had been before her, glowing brightly. She had felt it hit her chest. Pain radiated through her body and coursed down her spine._

"Little one…" he cooed in her ear, and she cringed. "We're almost there."

_Demons…_

Demons haunting her, demons haunting… Someone else. She pulled away from the man next to her. Who else were the demons haunting?

She turned, trying to see through the haze about her. Spinning in a slow circle, all she could see was grey. At last, her eyes caught the man next to her and her world momentarily flipped upside down—literally. Something about that dug at her like a tick attempting to get under her skin.

Spinning. Her thoughts were spinning as they attempted to assemble memories. What had happened? Her breath caught. _She_ had been spinning. She remembered slashes licking across her skin while he watched. He had done nothing to help, nothing to save her.

She backed away from him. His promises were empty.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The pillow under his head was surprising soft. The sheets weren't dirty, but clean—which was a bit surprising. The window covering shut out all light. For the first time, since before the attack on his home, his body relaxed. It was then the real pain began. No pain killers were there comforting him. No doctors or nurses prescribing treatments. No Cloak around to get his mind off the pain. He was alone once again.

At the moment, he'd kill for a drink. It would get his mind off every jab of pain and every sharp stab when a muscle spasm. However, drinking would only remind him of what he had done to Keeva. In hindsight, what hadn't he done to her? He had held her captive, severely injured her at one point, and now she was either with Conrad or dead. He couldn't decide which of the two scenarios were worse.

And if it wasn't for his arrogant attitude, she never would have been put in this situation. He had encouraged Rhodes to drink up on a few occasions and then hadn't stood in the way when he'd walked out with a woman. He should have had Rhodey's back then. It wouldn't be biting him in the ass now. Karma _was_ a bitch.

He turned over and faced another wall. He had been here maybe two hours. Sleep eluded him despite exhaustion.

"_You're leaving me at a motel? With no car?"_

_Cloak nodded. "Don't worry. Your ride will be here soon."_

_An eye brow rose. "I'm being left here defenseless while the military is looking for me?"_

_The man handed him a gun. "This will protect you for the time being."_

He wasn't entirely fond of guns, despite having made them. He knew the fact it was a Stark product was intentional. That man seemed to know a lot about him. He sighed.

This entire situation was his fault, and the person reaping the consequences was Keeva—whose name wasn't even Keeva. What did he know about the girl he had brought into his house? He swallowed roughly. He knew nothing. She hadn't told him—or possibly known—what she was capable of. She hadn't said a word of why Conrad held her captive. And she had never given him her real name. How had he managed to get so caught up in the minor details?

He worried if she had food, water and rest. He made sure she lived a comfortable life. He had given her what he could, but for all he knew she might have been a deranged killer. The part that worried him was the fact he hadn't really cared. He had been so focused on helping her that everything else was lost by the wayside.

Sure, Cloak knew her, but he was a loose cannon—it was like playing Russian roulette and wondering when your time would come. Guards hadn't so much as come close to him when he left the base. He _knew_ Cloak had something to do with that. He wasn't sure how, but it was the only logical answer—which wasn't even logical. What was at play?

The world wasn't as controlled as Tony kept it. Keeva and Cloak had proven that. The world that had been shown to him was a lie. There were greater things than weapons. That begged the question; could one person stop an _entire_ base from noticing him? There were mutants that had powers dealing with the mind. It wasn't a far cry to imagine it was possible.

If that was the case, what was his role in the world? For so long he had owned it. Cloak had known that though. Cloak knew him. Cloak, whose real name was—

A knock at the door startled Tony. Cloak had told him someone was coming, but not who it was. He had also told him to be careful. Tony grabbed the gun. The cold steel felt odd in his hand. He hadn't been in the weapons business for years. Shaking these thoughts, he approached the door. Cracking it open, he peeped through to the bright outside world.


	23. Marked

**Hope your holidays went swell! Wishing you an awesome new year!  
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"_Every morning an impala wakes up knowing  
that it must outrun the fastest lion if it wants to stay alive.  
Every morning a lion wakes up knowing  
that it must outrun the slowest impala or it will starve.  
It makes no different if you are a lion or an impala,  
when the sun comes up in Africa you must wake up running."  
_—_Anonymous_

Between the drugs, liquid, and dreams, time had seemed to stop. However, when the darkness no longer controlled her thoughts, reality began to set in again.

Eyes blinked open, revealing a blurry green aquarium. Lights were vaguely seen through thick glass around her. An icy grip clutched her chest. How was she breathing?

She glanced down at a mask covering her face. It provided fresh oxygen. As she took a few deep breaths, she began to assess the situation. Wires were attached to her, several digging into her flesh now. How long had she been in here?

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on her reflection in the murky glass. In the blurry mirror, she saw she was worse than remembered. Bones were sticking out, hair matted. How had she survived?

Looking beyond her reflection, scientists were again gathered in the room beyond, studying her. Panic flooded her thoughts. If they noticed she was awake… The last time they did they had drowned her system with some drug. The last time… How long had she been there?

She had to stay alert; she couldn't go under again. She searched the small containment cell for options. There were no immediate exits; she hadn't exactly expected there to be. Her left arm tugged against a restraint; no avail. She tugged harder and the hair on the back of her neck rose. Seconds later, shocks raked through her limbs.

A gentle whimper left her throat as the pain subsided. She shook her head as her attention turned to the people beyond. A few glanced in her direction. She allowed her head to droop. Perhaps if she pretended to go under again, they would leave her be.

_You can get out of here._

A brow rose as the words ran back through her mind. The mystery man had believed she could free herself. Did she believe it? Not exactly. If she could get out, why hadn't she done so long ago? Again, the hair on the back of her neck rose.

A slow breath left her lungs as she fought through the pain.

_When you feel the shocks, you need to deflect it back at them._

For some reason he believed she could escape. He believed she was more. As much as it didn't make sense, Conrad had also said the same thing.

_If everyone believes you not to be a threat, why not confirm their assumptions?_

What had Conrad taken out of her? Her head rose as she looked toward her right forearm. She couldn't make out any markings. However, the green tinted water blurred the area he had taken a scalpel to.

Ice began to pour into her veins and she snapped her attention forward. She might not be able to clearly see the growing crowd of scientists, but they had no trouble seeing her apparently. With every beat of her heart, the drug slithered further into her veins, making her drowsy.

_Not again!_

She tugged against the chains, and a few wires snapped. If both those men said she was something more, there had to be some truth to it, right? She thrashed, in a desperate escape attempt. Through the thick glass she heard a dull alarm. She pulled harder. How did they expect her to fight this?

She felt it before it hit again, and said prayers to whatever deity was watching over her. Time seemed to slow. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Her chest tightened as another wave rippled through.

The energy left her body as her head lulled.

She remembered no more.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He blinked.

Once.

Twice.

"Steve?"

"You look like death."

He slowly shook his head. "Can't say I'm surprised by that."

Silence descended upon the doorway as Tony looked everywhere but the brown-haired man on the outside.

"Are you going to let me in, Stark?"

He hesitated before stepping back to let Steve in. He hung his head as he closed the door behind him, suddenly embarrassed by the grubby hotel room he occupied.

"This looks like a crypt."

"It's not like I've exactly slept."

Steve made his way to a chair, and settled in. "Want to talk about it?"

He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "What's there to talk about?"

"Everything that just happened. And is that a gun in your hand?"

Tony exhaled sharply, and set the firearm on the nightstand. "What are you suddenly, Dr. Phil? Should I be looking for a camera crew? Did you sign me up for intervention?"

"You don't want to discuss it?"

"Did you miss the fact I'm not exactly the feely type?"

"I thought maybe after everything that's gone on, you would be a bit more open to the perspective of a conversation?"

"Are we suddenly in a relationship?"

Steve sighed. "Are you going to respond to everything with questions?"

"Are you going to ask me something that's not personal?"

The man in the chair did not reply. He shook his head as he looked about the small room. Tony wanted him to leave. He, who once had everything, was now in a motel which held nothing—except a smashed TV, a chair and a comfy bed. He made his way to the bed and sank down onto it. A yawn erupted from his mouth.

"Do you want to sleep? Or leave?"

Tony looked over at him. "You're my ride?"

Steve nodded.

"Did you talk to Cloak?"

"Cloak?"

"The man with the black hair and cloak."

"Oh, him. No, his name's not Cloak."

"That's what I used to call him."

"You know him?"

Tony shrugged. "I can't remember."

Silence once again crept into their conversation. Steve reached over and flicked on a lamp light. Tony hissed.

"Easy, Stark. This will be good for you."

He shook his head. "Bright light! Bright light!"

Steve's brow rose.

"Haven't watched Gremlins yet, have you?"

Steve paused momentarily. "Do you know what you want to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Sleep or leave?"

Tony laughed humorlessly. "I want to leave. I just need to keep going wherever it is that Cloak wants me to go."

"Then let's leave."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Air, she needed air. She coughed harshly. Her lungs burned. A flash of light blinded her momentarily. Shaking her head, she forced her eyes opened. A soft glow radiated from the chamber she was an. _Emergency light?_ Beyond the chamber, all was dark. She coughed again as a musty scent—like a dog—reached her nose and something in the distance move.

_It can wait til later…_

Her head drooped again.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"So I'm going to New York City?"

"For the fifty-second time, yes."

"You've been counting?"

"Estimating at this point; it's probably more."

"Am I bunking with you?"

"Not a chance, Stark. And, I will state again, we're going to D.C. then you'll go to New York."

"Why all the secrecy?" He had been in the car for hours now, and with all the traveling, his muscles were now very stiff. Pain radiated through his ribs and chest which hadn't been there while he was in the hospital enjoying their drug influence.

Steve shrugged. "I'm not sure. Your moves are kept under wraps."

"Like Harry Potter? Do I get doppelgangers of myself? Has Snape already given the word I am to be moved?"

He received no response.

"So, who planned this out?"

"The man you termed Cloak."

Tony huffed as his hand landed roughly on the pane next to the window. "Can _anyone_ tell me what's going on?"

Steve remained silent as he glanced out the windows.

"Are we being followed, Sherlock?"

He took a deep breath before lowering his voice. "The more things that happen to you, the more I think there's something much bigger going on."

"You'd fail at being Sherlock."

"I'll leave Sherlock to you. Anyway, I've been doing some thinking. Ever since Keeva came into your life, things have gone awry. Or at least, so it seems."

"What are you talking about?"

"The fact that she seems to know what Pepper would think, the fact she can hack into your systems, the issue over her lightning up the gauntlet when she put it on."

Tony stiffened. He hadn't been forth coming with information about these incidents. "How do you know these things?"

"Cloak sought me out. He needed someone to get you to D.C., said he couldn't do it. I agreed."

"He knew these events?"

"He stated there was someone watching."

"Watching? Keeva mentioned a man once. Apparently he knew all about her." He paused, and slightly paled as his eyes widened. She had been worried the man knew him and he laughed it off. "No, he knew about us… She knew something was coming. She knew Conrad would return for her despite that dummy. She knew…"

"You can't place the blame on Keeva. Things were bad before she came into your life. Things already didn't add up."

"What are you talking about?"

He glanced at Tony. "Do you think there was something suspicious about the way Pepper died?"

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Cold streaks down her face brought her to the conscious. She wasn't sure what she had been crying about, but it left her feeling empty. She blinked and looked about her surroundings.

The chains that had once bound her hung like vines. She glanced up to see how she was still suspended. Wires had the pleasure of keeping her hanging; however they threatened to snap at any moment. She could feel that most of the cords had already relinquished their grasp.

The darkness was the next thing that caught her attention. No green liquid surrounded her. In fact, no glass was seen either. A soft light, the one she had thought was an emergency light, illuminated the containment chamber and part of the observation area. She didn't see anyone.

The eerie silence crept in as she realized the soft clinking of the chains was the only thing to be heard. A feeling of dread crept in nestling itself in veins. What had happened?

She glanced up at the cords still holding her. She had to get down. She had to get free before something worse happened. She could possibly use the cords like a vine. They were long enough to give her enough momentum to make it to the observation area—or so she hoped.

Slowly shifting more weight onto her left arm, she moved her right hand to the wires holding it captive. Her fingers moved over the coils attached. Picking at the knots, they loosened and relinquished their hold, freeing her right arm. A few wires supporting her left arm snapped and groaned with the new weight. She spun to her left, grasping at the cords in hopes of stopping her erratic spinning. After a moment, she straightened out.

Gripping the coils with her right hand, she worked out the knots holding her left wrist hostage. The wires slithered from her wrist, leaving her hanging on. Holding the cord with both hands now, she shut her eyes.

Releasing a breath of air, she swung her legs forward and back, getting the cords moving. As the rope began to move further, she felt a heaviness lift from her chest and her eyes opened. A flicker of hope sparked as she realized her plan might work. Back and forth she swung, finding her destination closer with each new move. A small smile spread onto her lips as she neared the height of the momentum. She would never get a chance to test her theory, however.

The sickening snap of wires was her first indicator that it wasn't going to end well. She left out a gasp as she flew forward, arms and legs flailing. She was not prepared to meet the cold linoleum ground of the observation area. A gasp left her throat as she rolled across the floor, shattered glass biting and clawing into her skin.

As she regained her breath, she shrugged off the pain of the glass. She had felt its mark before by the gauntlet; this didn't hurt nearly as much.

She moved to a sitting position and examined the cut marks that now lined her skin—or should have lined her skin. Her fingers traced across the smooth surface of her body. Where were all the scars and newly formed cuts? In a panic, she inspected her torso, and legs. Where were they? Her mouth dropped as her eyes widened. Her attention turned to where Conrad had sliced open her forearm. Where was the scar?

She looked around, praying she was not in another disturbing nightmare.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony had remained silent for a change as he mulled over Pepper's death. The question had been asked hours ago, and he still didn't have an answer. He had never paid much attention to anything other than the fact she was now gone. However, with this new query, it reminded him of a few things Mandarin had said and a few things that had been discovered that didn't quite add up.

"There were certain… circumstances surrounding her death and what was said thereafter that the press never found out about; they were not privileged to."

Steve glanced to Tony, eyes widened in surprise.

"Basically, what the press was fed was a lie, and the three who actually know have been lying ever since to keep it covered up."

Tony felt Steve's gaze on him, but he chose to look out the windshield. Steve had not been one of the three. A cold chill ran up his spine. His mind derailed from the topic as the headlight picked up something large in the distance; something they were fast approaching. Tony gasped.

"STOP!"

His chest slammed into his seatbelt as Steve stopped the car. He could feel lingering bruises and sharp pains throughout his muscles and possibly his bones. He was beginning to regret ever leaving the hospital.

With the car stopped, he gazed through the dusk, trying to catch a glimpse of what he had seen in the road. As his eyes scanned the surrounding forest, he was met with disappointment. Whatever had been in the road had either disappeared, or proved he was really starting to lose his mind.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She had risen on shaky legs. Her entire body was not used to movement and it groaned in protest. She pushed aside the fact that her skin didn't show any marks, and forced herself to pretend this was real.

Her feet padded softly across the floor towards the exit. She swallowed roughly as she wondered how she would manage through the pitch-black hallway. Would there be a trap waiting for her in the hall? She froze as a red light flashed. After a few heartbeats, it flashed again. She counted and a third flash happened after ten seconds. It was another emergency light. Her body relaxed.

She approached the hallway, but turned to give one last glance about the area. Files and papers lay strewn across the floor. Computers had crashed and laid in ruins. Cabinets had fallen from their spots on the wall and lay in pieces. A white doctor coat lay discarded on the floor near her. Given the return of her barely-there outfit, she snagged the fabric; whoever it had belonged to had left it behind.

She turned her attention to the hallway. Silence met her ears and a lump formed in her throat. Her eyes peered into the darkness and she waited for the light to flash. The first flash made it apparent the hallway had not escaped destruction. The second gave her the feeling she should go towards the light.

She took a breath and stepped into the hallway. When light flashed in her path it allowed her quick glimpses of the narrow area. Rubble and debris from the ceiling and walls coated the floor. Doors hung off hinges. In many places doors were no longer attached, but lay shattered on the floor.

What had happened?

She stayed against the walls, hoping to shrink against them and hide if something should appear in the darkness. The exit had to be the way she was going. She willed it to be. If she was lost in this place, she would probably die of hunger first.

At one point, she felt an odd substance beneath her feet. It was similar to almost dried paint. Looking down, she noticed a stain. Kneeling closer, she found it odd that it looked like the same color as the emergency flash.

In her moments of light, her eyes followed the stain. It looked like something had been dragged through it. Her eyes continued forward and her heart dropped.

A few feet from where she knelt lay the forearm of a man.

Just the arm. No man.

Her lip quivered.

Her eyes darted around.

What happened?

She rose as a tremble invaded her bones. The way the limb was severed; ripped crudely from its owner… Humans couldn't do that. What else had been kept here? She shut her open mouth and blinked back tears. Now was not the time to lose sanity. After a second, she began pressing on towards the way she thought was the exit. It _had_ to be the exit.

When she passed a door, she tensed. Would something grab her? A piece of rubble shifted under her; she startled, thinking some unknown entity was going to bring her into the dark depths.

She continued down the hallway, quietly picking her way over the debris. She came to a stairwell ascending up. After a brief moment of pure terror, she placed her foot on the first step. One step after another led her up the long spiral staircase. At the top, she was worried to see the narrow hallway gave way to larger spaces. A shudder ran through her bones as cold gripped her exposed skin.

Doorways adorned the large space on the left and right. Rubble blocked a few and would make it tricky exploring what lie ahead. On the opposite wall stood a large archway with a flight of stairs leading up; a flashing red light somewhere up there, the only sign of life. Part of her wanted to dart straight across the room and race up toward freedom. However, what would pursue her if she made such a rash decision? Following the walls was still her best choice.

One step after another took her along the edges of the room. Silence settled heavily on her chest as darkness seemed to loom about her. A musty scent reached her nose, reminding her of a dog. The sooner she left this place, the better. As she passed a door frame, she startled as a soft whimper reached her ears. Frozen mid-creep, she peered into the room.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

As Steve pressed on the gas again, Tony waited for the shock to wear off. When his heart had regained its normal beat, he turned toward Steve.

"When I found Pepper, she was cold and lifeless. It was reminiscent of Snow White except a kiss didn't wake her. Rhodey took a look at the body and found it odd she had almost been preserved. He was the one that interrogated Mandarin, and while the man admitted to the crime, he couldn't recall how it happened. He kept saying he was there for Extremis, but no one knew about the armor except Pepper."

"You said only three people knew what happened. What about the officers on scene?"

Tony pursed his lips. "In the six months after her death, everyone in connection with the investigation turned up dead. They all died while sleeping, from heart attacks, brain aneurisms; anything that was considered a natural cause happened. Everyone _but_ the coroner.

"After his report was filed, he turned up dead and the report went missing. I didn't find out until later how he was found. He had been dismembered while still alive. Sections had been cut off, but he was kept alive somehow so he could experience every cut the murderer made." He shrugged. "It wasn't… It wasn't natural, Steve. And then the person who filed the report on him died of a drug overdose and that file went missing as well."

"Why didn't you look into any of this?"

"I didn't know how to function without Pepper. I couldn't see past her death."

Steve nodded. "What did the coroner find on Pepper?"

"He said she died of blunt force trauma to the head, which matched Mandarin's story. But he also discovered an odd symbol etched into her chest. He described it as a pentagram. He said it had happened around the time of her death, but he couldn't explain why it was almost healed."

"So you don't know…"

Tony shrugged. "I don't know what really happened to her. Only Rhodes, I, and whoever did this know. And now you."

Steve was silent for a long time as he mulled over the information. He finally cleared his throat. "Stark, in light of all this, it makes the main question I have more relevant."

"And what's that? Where we're going to live?"

"No. Why are you so young?"

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The soft whimper came again.

She felt her muscles unwind as she moved to the side of the door frame. Her eyes fought to see past the darkness, but to no avail. She turned to move toward the stairs again when another whimper came. If someone was alive and hiding in there, she couldn't leave them to die.

Stepping into the unknown, she allowed the darkness to consume her and her eyes adjusted. She found it odd that she could now see desks toppled over and papers scattered. Her eyes glanced around and came upon a closet in the far corner of the room. Taking cautious steps, she picked her way toward it.

Another whimper sounded and her heart beat rose. She was certain that whoever or whatever was scared was beyond that door. When she reached it, she stretched out a shaky hand.

Her fingers wrapped around the handle and she turned it.

The door creaked open allowing her to see inside.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"What do you mean?"

"I knew your father, Stark. He may have been young when we met, but it doesn't add up. He would have had to be in his sixties when he had you and we both know that isn't true."

Tony paused. Why had he never questioned that? His jaw opened but no response came from it.

"There has to be more going on," Steve continued. "These can't just be a coincidence."

"They're not," Tony finally replied. "They can't be. Whoever truly killed Pepper has to be behind this. That's the ring leader."

"Did Keeva know?"

That was a good question. She seemed to know a lot despite feigning innocence. However, he hadn't heard of her return and Cloak had said she was captured. "How long was I in the hospital?"

"Month and a half. The military placed you under no visit orders. No one was allowed in."

Then why did he still ache like the event had happened yesterday? "Rhodes order it?"

Steve shook his head. "It came from a higher source."

"Any word about Keeva?"

"No one's heard anything. Anyone who knew about the girl is searching, but she's disappeared. Just like Romanoff."

"Natalie's gone? When?"

He nodded. "She's been missing for almost four months. From what I heard S.H.I.E.L.D. was apparently looking into you for a while. Her last assignment was being sent to your house. There's been no sign of her. She vanished."

Tony paled. That would be right around the time he dropped her off in the woods outside of Forks, Washington as a joke. He looked at Steve. "I left her in Washington. It would have taken her a few days to get to civilization, but she shouldn't still be missing."

Steve didn't reply. After a while he turned off the highway and pulled into a gas station. "Stay here."

"Okay, Dad. But get snacks." Tony shifted and inhaled sharply. He hadn't felt the pain in his chest earlier. Had he broken a rib? Then again, why hadn't it healed?

Steve frowned then turned to go inside.

After unbuckling his seat belt, Tony got out and stretched. His body increasingly hurt worse every hour that passed. His gaze travelled to the bushes and forest surrounding. The fog that crept in as the hour turned late gave an eerie feeling. A thick scent of sulfur reached his nose and he snorted once. His attention was drawn by a rusty pick-up truck that pulled up beside him with a screech of brakes.

Out stepped a raggedy man, who looked similar to a stocky scarecrow. He nodded at Tony. "Evenin'."

Tony considered climbing back into the car to avoid the man with the southern drawl. "Hello."

"Not familiar with these here parts, are ya?"

"Just passing through."

"Figur'd."

Tony glanced to the door. Steve clutched a large brown bag and seemed in a hurry to leave.

"Takin' a campin' trip with yer buddy?"

"Cross country trip…" Tony replied, slightly distracted before turning back to the man. "Why would you figure we weren't from here?"

"Cuz folks here know not to peek out af'er dark."

"But you're out after dark."

"I don't got nothin' to fear."

Steve reached the car and placed the groceries in the back seat. He cast a wary glance at the stranger as his nose crinkled. "Hello, sir."

"'Lo. I's jus' tellin' yer buddy here that y'all shudn' be out af'er dark."

Tony shifted uncomfortably as he peered behind him. Under different circumstances he wouldn't have cared what the crazy man before him said, however, due to the recent conversations he decided to play it safe.

"What haunts at night?"

Steve shot Tony a look, both eye brows raised in surprised.

The man grinned, showing a few missing teeth. "What don' haunt here?"

Tony blinked; something nagged at his memory. "What creatures linger here? There must be some sort of myths. Everyone here must gather around the local watering pub and exchange their ghost stories. So what's here? What makes this place special? Big Foot?"

The man laughed loudly, ending in a cough. "Tony Stark, you always full of surprises, ain't you? I'll help a feller out, though. You see, there ain't no place to run now. You don't got nowhere _to_ go. There's none place safe enough. They'll find you. They're huntin' you 'cause-a that girl."

"Because of Keeva?"

"Af'er all this time, you still call 'er that?"

Tony attempted to nod as the smell of sulfur became overwhelming. He swallowed and held down whatever food might be in his stomach. Something else grabbed his memory.

"_What do you believe, Tony?"_

_He was glad she had recovered from the repulsor incident. He shrugged in response._

"_You have no beliefs?"_

"_I guess the question is, what do you believe?"_

_Her eyes met his. "You dealt with them, Tony. You can't believe or pretend they don't exist. I'm surprised you didn't smell it."_

"_Smell what, Keevs?"_

"_The sulfur. That rotten egg smell. From the demons."_

"Thanks for the warning, but we must be going." Tony opened his door and climbed in, shooting Steve a look to do the same. He was grateful that Cap was one step ahead of him.

The man laughed again. "'Parently y'think runnin' will help ya. It didn' help 'er, did it?"

Steve started the car and Tony looked at the man as they drove away.

"I told ya," the man called after them. "They'll chase ya. Yer a mark'd man, now."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She was surprised when she saw a woman shuddering in the closet, gently sobbing. Drawing closer, she kneeled and gently touched the woman. She cleared her throat. "Are you okay?"

She winced as the woman peered up. Her throat was scratchy and rough. It sounded foreign and weak in her ears. How long had it been since she had spoken?

"Are you okay?" she asked again.

"Are you one of them?"

Her brow lifted. "One of whom?"

"The skin changers? There were two."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not one of them."

The woman relaxed against the back wall, with a soft nod. Tears streaked her dirty face; knees were pulled up to her chest.

"What's your name?"

"Sophie."

"Okay, Sophie—" She was interrupted by a growl from the main room. Sophie looked at her curiously.

"What?"

The woman couldn't hear it? She swallowed as whatever was in the room growled louder. This time Sophie quivered.

"Oh no…" She whispered and placed her head on her knees.

"What is it? What's making the sound?"

Sophie placed a hand over her mouth. Neither moved as the growling moved away from them. After a long time, Sophie finally removed her hand.

"That's subject NT-818."

"What does that mean?"

If Sophie was confused by her lack of knowledge, she didn't show it. However, her pupils were dilated and shock seemed to be setting in. "Project Undead. It's a creature we had never seen. It was kept in one of the two maximum security chambers, sub-basement one. It's been kept sedated for years, however, with this disaster we lost all power and everything was freed."

"Everything?" She glanced away and looked about the closet. She turned back to Sophie. "This… This is a research facility."

"We were worried something like this would happen, but _she_ didn't care. We've kidnapped people and brought them down here, testing on them with things _she_ brought to us. It finally backfired. Our tests did this."

She looked Sophie. "Are you saying one of the experiments did this?"

The woman nodded. "Yes, subject A-113."

"What's subject A-113?"

"The one kept in maximum security sub-basement zero."

"That's not making any sense. What is it?"

The woman shuddered. "Project Diamond."

She swallowed roughly. Her jaw dropped as tears pricked the corners of her widened eyes.


	24. 666 Marathon

**Hope your weeks been wonderful. Hope your holidays were amazing.**

**Enjoy! Remember to review!_  
_**

* * *

_"There is no time to think about how much I hurt;_  
_there is only time to run."_  
_—Ben Logsdon_

Tony fumbled with his seatbelt as Steve sped away from the gas station. His heart pounded in his chest and he swore he could feel it against the metal of his reactor. He wasn't necessarily frightened, but a healthy amount of fear definitely weighed on his mind. "Please tell me that didn't just happen."

"Stark, are you dealing with demons?"

"I said don't tell me that happened. Was I not speaking English? Should I have signed it to you, wrote you a memo, gotten a translator?"

"How long have you been dealing with them?" Steve checked the review mirror. By all appearances, he remained level-head and calm about the situation.

"It's not _exactly_ a big secret that I drink, _Steve_. I thought they were related to that. I didn't know they were actually _following_ me."

"So, how long?"

"They started manifesting after Pepper's death. That's when I started betting my liver it would give out before I did."

"And that much alcohol should have killed you."

"So, are you saying they were keeping me alive? Maybe I should send a 'thank you'. Where would I address that? 666 Park Ave, Hell?"

Steve shook his head and was silent for a few minutes. "They surrounded that gas station."

"What do you mean?"

"The man inside was one—"

"That's not surrounding, that's more like working or loitering."

The look he received in response was narrowed. "That's when I first smelled it. The man told me to give you a word of advice—"

"Because demons always give out the best advice."

"He said, _if a man shall meet the Black Dog once, it shall be for joy; and if twice, it shall be for sorrow; and the third time, he shall die._"

"Words to live by." He pretended to raise a glass in toast.

"Have you met a black dog before, Tony?"

"Don't tell me you're into this mumbo jumbo."

"You have."

"There are tons of black dogs. They're not exactly uncommon. Black labs for example, are _black_ dogs."

"That's not what I asked."

Tony turned around to grab the bag Steve had placed in the back. "Is any of this stuff good? It did come from Sulfur-topia."

"Stark, answer the question."

He spun around in his seat. His heart beat had yet to calm down. "If I said yes, are you going to drop me off in the middle of this hell hole?"

"No, I just want to know."

"I'm surprised that you, as a God-fearing man, believe in superstitions."

"I _don't_ believe in Grim superstitions. I _do_ believe in demons, however. They are very real, and often speak in double meanings."

"You don't say! So, do I need an exorcism or something?"

"No, you need to answer the dog question."

Tony sighed. "I don't remember coming across a Black Shuck."

"Black Shuck?"

"Yeah, that's what they're called."

"And you know this how?"

"The same way I know I used to call that man Cloak or that those guys were demons—" A flash of a large beast ran across his mind. It wasn't like the one from his nightmare about Pepper. It was more like a wolf. "Or the Black Shuck I've come across before."

"_You_ believe in those superstitions?"

Tony looked at him. "I only remember a flash, I can't even be sure if it was a Black Shuck. Maybe I was 'young' at the time. I saw it again when we were talking about Pepper's death. It was the beast in road. It had to be. If I meet it a third time…"

"Stop, Stark. It was a simple question. You're taking the myths too far."

"Too far, Steve?" Tony leaned back against his seat. The weight of mortality seemed to settle in around him expecting him to surrender to fate. "Keeva used my gauntlet without a power source, a strange man's been stalking me, and a man in a black cloak who has strange powers was traveling with me. I sound like I need to be committed. That doesn't even touch the fact that Pepper's spoken with me over the last few years and only recently told me we were done speaking, and that the demons told me to stay away from Keeva. They said Keeva killed Pepper. Where's my straight jacket?"

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"P-project Diamond did this? How?"

Sophie looked at the ground; her voice turned monotone, distant. "A-113 woke from the sedative. It happens occasionally, but this time was different. A-113 looked different. I told them it was odd those scars had healed. I told them we needed to take more precautions. No one listened. Instead, they kept sending those shock treatments."

She glanced at her skin. "So, what happened?"

"They got what they wanted. They wanted a reaction from A-113. They wanted it to expose its powers. They had been trying for years. _She_ was furious with Conrad after he lost it. A-113 was missing for almost a year before Conrad tracked it down again."

She swallowed roughly. _It._ "I still don't understand…"

Sophie looked at h—_it?_ The blank look in the woman's eyes caused chills to run up her spine. "When we shocked it, it finally fought back. It sent the electricity back through our systems and overloaded all the circuits. It gave us our death sentence."

Her eyes widened. She had never meant any of that. She didn't mean to do this. She just wanted to escape.

"I have to leave." Sophie rose, blank look still in her eyes.

"No, you can't. Wait a bit longer. Please. We'll go together. We'll escape together."

"No, Diamond. You are on your own."

She moved against the wall as Sophie stepped out. How had Sophie known who she was? In the beginning and most of the conversation she hadn't know who A-113 was. There was something eerie about the whole situation. At the corners of her mind, she knew what had happened to Sophie, but they all lie in darkness and she was unable to see.

She listened to the woman's loud footsteps as they picked their way through the rubble into the main room. She once again smelled something musty and shook her head. An icy hand ran up her spine as Sophie's shadow appeared in the blink of red light. Her heart beat louder. A soft whoosh was heard. She heard Sophie scream. She attempted to push herself into the wall to hide.

A flash of red light.

More screams echoed through her ears. A shudder ran through her.

A flash of red.

Her knees nestled against her chest. Her teeth chattered softly. She bit the coat to quiet them. More screams.

A flash of red.

_Please let this end…_

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony had trouble sitting as the pain became increasingly worse. Every few minutes he adjusted positions. It wasn't only the aches of aftermath; it was as if he was going through the explosion again—the explosion he couldn't remember. He kept trying to turn the heater up as the snow fell around them. The shivers weren't helping his position, they made the pain worse. He barely heard mumbling from the driver's seat.

Tony glanced over at Steve; his head throbbing. "What?"

"I said, grab my duffle bag."

With gritted teeth, he reached back and grabbed the bag. He huffed. "Really? Is everything you own blue with a white star?"

"As if you don't own enough Iron Man memorabilia."

"It's different."

"Not at all." Steve reached over and took the bag from him.

"Is that safe to do while you're driving?"

"Says the man who drinks and drives."

"Well apparently I had demons keeping me alive until now so I was safe."

"That's not funny to joke about."

A rattle was heard and seconds later Steve threw a bottle at him. "What's this?"

"Read it." He fiddled around in the bag and pulled out a water bottle.

Tony squinted in the lack of light. "Tylenol?"

"Take two and drink that."

He found himself struggling to open the bottle, something that didn't normally happen to him. Finally opening it, he took out two pills and popped them in his mouth. He then reached for the water, opened it, and drank the pills down. The water sent some immediate relief to his parched throat, but his body still ached.

"I think whatever's at work here, is the reason you never healed at the hospital."

Tony looked over as Steve handed him a hoodie; complete with navy blue fabric and a white star. "You really do own everything Captain America."

"Stop it, Tony."

He slid the hoodie over his arms and zipped it up. He found his head resting on the window—when had that happened? "I gotta say, it now looks like we're dating. Thanks for the sweater, honey."

"Get some rest."

Tony found himself unable to reply as pain throbbed from every part of him. If he was lucky the Tylenol would help. At this point, however, it looked as if the Grim would catch him first. Outside the car had become a winter storm. He knew animals would be hiding from the harsh conditions. All of them except the one he knew was chasing them.

It was out there, trailing them, hunting _him_ and Steve would end up in its path. Perhaps the Black Shuck would be content with just him, and Wing Tips would be safe. Regardless of anything else, even if they did make it to D.C. without incident, the creature would overtake him.

He opened his eyes upon hearing the engine rattle—when had they closed? Tony prayed the Tylenol would kick in before he met the beast. It wasn't going to let him get to D.C.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

_Red._

Flashes of red.

They filled her blurry vision for hours.

_Screams_ still echoed in her ears. The entire time she prayed the creature wouldn't come after her.

_Coward._

She shuddered. She had to move. Even if it hadn't gotten her yet, it would eventually find her.

She rose from where she curled in the corner. Her legs were stiff. Clutching the coat closer, she quietly picked her way through the mess of debris. The cold that entered her bones had melted away long ago. For this she was thankful. Upon reaching the doorway, she paused. Her eyes scanned the room.

Flashes of red.

Blood pooled on the floor before her. It lined the walls. This must be where Sophie had taken her final breaths. She noticed drag marks leading out from the pool. Her eyes followed. They ended up at a large vent high in the wall. So the creature she assumed was NT-818 was using the vent systems.

A tear dropped. It could move faster than she. It could cross rooms in seconds, pop out of anywhere, while she would have to slowly navigate through the wreckage. Her chances of survival were slim. If she stayed here though, there was none. No one was coming.

She picked her way towards the red light, and pushed her mind away from the horrors trying to plague her. Reaching the stairs, she thanked whoever was looking out for her. She had survived a few more minutes. At the top of the stairs however, her stomach dropped.

The doors at the end of the room were closed. Bodies of scientists and what appeared to be guards lay scattered amongst the ruins. Severed limbs and blood adorned the place like garland and frost at Christmas. The smell that reached her nose made her stomach clench. She was sure if there had been food in it she would have vomited.

Steeling herself against the destruction before her, she picked her way around the edges of the room and made for the door. She gazed up at the ceiling in an attempt not to look at the dead, but that made her vulnerable to tripping. The first time she slipped, she landed in cold sticky blood. Scrambling to her feet, she swallowed a whimper. She raised her hands and looked at them in her ten allotted seconds. A tear slid down her cheek. The deads' blood was on her hands.

The second time she tripped, she came face to face with a head.

Just the head.

Her mouth opened in a silent scream. She pushed to her feet. She could no longer afford to gaze at the ceiling.

Despite the horror, she kept her eyes on her path until she reached the closed door. As her fingers reached out to grip the icy handle, a cold hand brushed up her spine. She pulled on the handle, only to learn it was sealed shut, as a musty scent filled the air.

She froze.

She was being watched. A presence much bigger than her stood in the tomb. Every hair on her body rose. Her fingers slid off the icy handle. She swallowed roughly. Taking in a deep breath, she forced herself to turn around in the darkness.

Two red glowing orbs peered at her through the darkness.

Red Light.

It stood at the foot of the staircase she had come up. It was large. Its red eyes focused solely on her, the prey. The flash died. It moved forward, not yet lowered in a hunter's crouch—or perhaps she was too easy a target and it didn't need to.

Red Light.

It paused. Three rows of spikes ran down its back, ending at the tip of a spiked tail—reminding her of a mace. It stood at least five feet in height, and that was on four legs. Its paws made no sound. Five clawed toes were on the front—which it could most likely use as a hand—and four toes with a large dew claw on the back.

Darkness. It moved to the left. No sound. Eyes focused on her. Two glowing furnaces looked on her, ready to bring her to the pits of hell.

Red light.

Pause. It was similar to a grey hound, or so she thought at the glance. Its back legs were a bit longer, partly curled up, but it didn't hinder its movement. She'd bet it was great at jumping. Sharp canine teeth from its upper jaw curved partway down its lower lip.

Darkness. The red eyes effortlessly leapt up and landed next to her. If it wasn't hunting her, she would have been awed by the predator's beauty. Instead, she counted for the flash.

Red light.

She bolted in the opposite direction, rushing toward an empty room.

Darkness.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He didn't feel like he was moving. In fact, when his eyes opened, he wasn't surprised to see the hood of the car up.

_Wait._

They weren't moving.

He glanced to the driver's seat. Steve wasn't there. Maybe he was fixing the car. Alone. _What if—_

Tony rushed to get his seatbelt off and stumbled out of the car.

"Rogers!" His breath wreathed his face as he made for the front of the car. "Rogers?!"

Steve looked over at him. "You're awake?"

Tony let out a sigh of relief as his eyes darted around. "What happened?"

"The car stalled out. It's just a minor issue."

"And you didn't feel like waking me? I know how to work on cars." He pushed Steve out of the way, frantically checking over the engine.

"You think those demons are really following us?"

"You know, Steve." Tony pulled a few wires, changing them around. Apparently, Steve wasn't handy with cars either. "I'm not really worried about the demons."

"Then what's got Iron Man worried?"

Tony looked at him, surprised by his light demeanor. "Have you not been a part of our conversation?"

"You're more worried about the dog then the demons?"

"I can handle the demons." He moved another wire and the engine whined then died. The lights flickered out.

"Like you can work on cars?"

Tony shook his head and attempted to get the car working again. He froze.

A chill ran up his spine.

He spun and looked down the road. Silence fell around them as fog drifted lazily through the air. Snowflakes littered the area, gathering across the ground.

"Steve… Run."

He glanced over to Steve who held his shield in his hand—when had he gotten that?—and was wide-eyed staring at what lie behind them. So, Steve hadn't been as care-free as he acted.

"Tony, we can't."

Tony glanced back. Guarding the road at the edge of his sight were three large dark objects. They stood at least six feet in height, and that was on four muscular legs complete with sharp claws. Their faces were similar to humans with a flattened snout like nose and mouth. He recognized them as one of the creatures Pepper had feared in the workshop.

The three beasts seemed content on just watching him, waiting for something.

_What are they wai—_

He snapped back to face straight ahead and saw another creature rise out of the road. He remembered hearing the legends of the black dogs whom rose from mist in the ground, vaguely remembered a beast similar; this exceeded his expectations. It stood as tall as him, if not a few inches taller; its eyes glowing fiery red.

_So that's what they're waiting for…_

He had a feeling he was about to meet his maker—or get reincarnated into a tree. The beast before him took a step and sniffed the air. It reminded him of a wolf, and although Tony feared it, he felt like he shouldn't.

Its fur was obsidian, giving it a look as if it was melding in with the shadows. In fact, it seemed to shift with the shadows. As it took another step forward, he noticed its forepaws were massive. Instead of being fully paws, its digits were extended further and its dew claw seemed to act more like a thumb.

"Are you going to crash a plane to save us?"

He felt Steve look at him. "Is now a time for wise cracks?"

"Well, we've got demons behind us and a Hellhound in front of us. I'd say that if we're relying on your shield alone, we're in a lot of trouble."

"And your gauntlets would help us?"

"It'd at least even out the teams a little."

"Any ideas?"

Tony watched as blue flames flickered low against the ground. In moments, the large Hellhound rushed him, snarling as puffs of warm air wreathed its face in the cold night.

"Stark!"

Steve's voice faded from his mind as the snow around him disappeared. The world as he knew it reformed as his HUD system appeared in his vision.

Blue flames lit from the ground as the Hellhound came into view, snarling with glowing eyes.

"Sir, target perceived as a threat."

"Oh really, Jarvis? I couldn't _tell_." Only he wasn't speaking.

His palm rose to fire at the creature. In the next instant, he found himself tumbling over, tackled by an unknown.

"Tony! You can't hurt him. Jac didn't know what he was doing."

_Who—_

"Tony!"

Steve's voice broke through the vision and the HUD fell away, leaving him in the snow with the Hellhound fast approaching. He looked at the hound's glowing red eyes.

"Jacamo…"

Inches from his face the black beast stopped, one brow raised in confusion. It closed its eyes and shook its head. When it opened them again, grey human-like eyes peered back at him. After a low growl, it shook its head again and sank into the ground as the fires died with it.

A roar from the other side of the car grabbed Tony's attention. He turned and saw the three creatures starting for him.

"Well, I have to say this entire event has not been one of my favorites to go through. Jac was less then helpful."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She sprinted; slipping once on what she imagined was blood. Her arms felt as if they were flailing behind her. She barely made it into a room before the creature was upon her. Tripping, she skidded into a wall as it slid over her. Her breath lodged in her throat, eyes slammed shut, as her stomach and insides churned. A fire seemed to burn her entire body.

When she opened her eyes again, she was staring up the grey chest of the beast she knew was termed undead. One thought entered her mind.

_Necrotaur._


	25. By Sheer Coincidence

**I would like to take a second and thank each and every one of you who are loyal readers. You keep me writing and you keep me going. I am so thankful that despite all the questions and "theories" concerning what's going on that you are sticking with it. And I know it may seem confusing now, but you'll see it all pieced together before you know it!**

**Hope your week has been wonderful. Let me know what you think is going on.**

**And thank you again, each and every one of you, for reading.**

* * *

"_Coincidence is the word we use  
when we can't see the levers and pulleys."  
_—_Emma Bull_

The red and silver shield spun toward one of the three creatures headed toward them. It ricocheted off the beasts head and bound back toward Steve. The creature roared in response.

"Well, I think we can say the shield doesn't do anything but piss them off."

"Thanks for the update, Stark." Steve snatched the shield out of the air.

"My pleasure." He weighed what few options remained to them. Steve flinging his shield at them repeatedly was not helping the situation. Tony sighed and focused. He knew they were nothing like the Hellhound that had sunk into the ground—the only similarity was the fact they both walked on four legs. He knew they were of a demonic nature. He remembered Pepper had feared the one in his dreams. She had fled the garage with him. She had—

He paled. She had told him he needed to get out. She wasn't fearful of them. She was afraid for _him_. She had known long ago they were chasing _him_, slowly backing _him_ into a corner he couldn't escape from. He took a breath and looked at Steve.

"Run?"

"Probably won't do any good."

"We might live a few minutes longer."

Steve glanced at Tony from head to toes, and pursed his lips. He then turned back to the creatures and sighed. "Might as well postpone the party."

Tony was already huffing in the opposite direction by the time he heard Steve's footfalls following behind. He wasn't surprised when Wing Tips caught up with him.

"You run like a smoker."

"Oh…Great joke… for the half… dead guy…" Tony huffed as his limbs began to burn. Snarls pierced the night air behind them. He watched as the fog turned to black mist around them. "This just… gets better… and better…"

He was startled to find soft blue flames light the ground. Looking before him, he crashed into Steve. Fifteen feet from them, the Hellhound reappeared out of the shadows and dashed at them, snarling with something jammed in its fierce-looking jaws.

"What's it doing?" questioned Steve.

Tony managed a shrug as air heaved in and out of his lungs. He watched as its grey eyes sparked, turning fiery red. It tossed something at him. The Hellhound leapt over them and hit the lead creature behind them with a snarl. Tony looked down as the object skid toward his feet, hot-rod red in color.

"Your gauntlet?"

Tony picked it up as roars broke out behind him. It was his gauntlet. Hadn't his armor gone down with his house?

Steve turned and spun his shield at the creatures. A metal thud resounded as a creature snarled in response. "I think it's trying to even the fight out."

Tony inspected the piece of armor—which was indeed his—and found the wiring attachment to his reactor jammed inside. He pulled it out, slid the gauntlet over his right hand and arm. As fast as his shivering fingers could, he took the wiring and ran it to his reactor, connecting it. With a soft whir, the sound of gears settling into place, and a light, the gauntlet became functional.

A breath of hot hair blew over the back of his body. He turned to look into the black eyes of the creature that had haunted—_hunted?_—him in his dreams. One clawed arm rose to smash him into the ground. He moved to point his gauntlet at it when the creature tumbled to his right.

The Hellhound tumbled with the creature—which disappeared in a bright flash—and rolled into a standing position. It bound back over towards Tony, circling protective behind. Its face hovered on the left side of Tony's as it uttered a warning growl to the next approaching creature.

Tony's right arm rose, followed by a soft whir. He expected the creature to be hit by the repulsor ray—it shrieked and disappeared in a bright flash. What he didn't expect was himself to be blown back into the soft fur of the Hellhound. It startled and its fiery eyes looked down at him inquisitively.

"No idea." Tony moved to right himself. How weak had he become since the loss of his house? His eyes traveled towards the car—or what was left of it.

The final beast stood on top of the now smashed vehicle, growling at Steve. Tony watched as the shield struck quickly. The creature roared in response. Tony aimed at the creature and another one bit the dust. When the creature exploded, however, so did the car.

"I think it's safe to say that the gauntlet—just one—did a little more than just even out the teams."

Steve shook his head, picked up his shield, and walked to Tony; his eyes on the black beast next to him. It growled softly in warning.

"Jacamo, meet Steve. Steve, this is Jacamo. He's a Hellhound. I'm not quite sure how we know each other, but in recent light of everything that's gone on, I find this perfectly normal."

Jacamo snorted.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She fought to right herself as the Necrotaur snarled and moved. Its head had slammed into the wall when it lunged for her. She rolled over, and struggled to rise. The fall must have been worse than she imagined; she had trouble standing. She swayed to the right.

The red light blinked, grabbing her attention. She had to get back towards it. It was the only thing that meant escape. Crawling, she started for the door.

Behind her, a low growl filled the air.

Finding her feet, she bolted toward the room. She felt awkward, like she was running on her hands and feet. She tripped and skid into the other room. Her arms landed under her and she shook her head. Her ears twitched back.

_Wait. What?_

She stood and found she was oddly close to the ground. Looking down, she noticed two grey paws. And a snout.

_Uh oh…_

A snarl erupted in the room.

She looked back. Its glowing red eyes found her.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The Hellhound's eyes had simmered into grey a while back and the black beast walked next to Tony, providing warmth. If he had met the Hellhound months ago, he wouldn't have believed what he saw. He would have chalked the entire event up to one really well done _Punk'd_ episode—or too much Scotch—and moved on with his life. Things like that didn't exist. As it stood—and it literally _stood_ next to him—life apparently had a funny way of showing you how you were wrong.

On the flipside of that thought, however, he knew the beast. He knew about Black Shuck's and Hellhounds. Tony's brow furrowed. Why had he not known until he saw it? Why hadn't he remembered? As his mind turned over possibilities, he assumed it was like listening to your favorite song. Despite not hearing it for years, you could still remember the words when it came on the radio.

Steve walked on his right, his shield slung on his back. Tony felt bad that nothing could have been salvaged from the remains of the car. Steve had lost his lovely navy blue bag with the white star. He said all that mattered was that they were alive. Maybe, if Tony recovered from all this, he would buy him a new bag one day.

As the night dragged on, he felt the cold creep into his bones and the aches returned after the adrenaline wore off. At one point he staggered into Steve and hopelessly tried to right himself. Jacamo's ears flattened against his head as it drooped and he whined softly.

Steve wrapped his arm around him and looked at the hound. "He needs to get somewhere warm."

The Hellhound nodded and straightened up. It sniffed the air and moved in another direction, off the road.

Tony tried to follow, but Steve hesitated.

"What is it? You want to turn into a Capsicle again?"

"How do you know we can trust it?"

He shook his head and took another step forward. He was surprised when his knees gave out and he fell into the snow. Needles and razors seemed to tear at his lungs every time he breathed. His eyes glanced up as wisps of black came from the ground and the Hellhound appeared before him. Jacamo whimpered and his muzzle nudged Tony's face. For a moment, he felt a bit of déjà vu. With the absence of a memory, however, he shrugged it off.

"He brought me the gauntlet and saved me. If I'm supposed to be fearing him he's sure doing a good job of fooling us."

"Wolf in sheep's clothing."

Jacamo helped Tony stagger to his feet. He leaned against the Hellhound as a tremor ran through his bones. He gripped the soft black fur between his fingers. He took a deep breath and turned toward Steve.

"I know him… I don't know how, but I do."

_*TiC*TiC*TIC*_

She bolted to the room across, the Necrotaur in pursuit. Whimpers wouldn't help her situation, but they escaped her throat anyhow. Entering the door, she noticed an enormous wooden table took up most of the room—_a meeting room?_ She shook her head, now wasn't the time.

She quickly scanned the area. Concrete slabs had crashed down from the ceiling and the table was broken in the middle. Her eyes caught a hole in the corner. She might be able to fit through it. It looked large enough. Her legs awkwardly pushed her forward toward the hole.

The Necrotaur burst in with a roar, making the smaller pieces of debris rattle. She could feel its gaze. Her ears twitched back and she caught a soft scrape of claws. Without seeing, she knew it had leapt into the air. Panic shook through her body. She tripped, head over heels. With a yelp, she tumbled into a hallway.

Her body shuddered as she looked back at the hole. The Necrotaur's head fit through and its glowing eyes settled on her. A snarl ripped through its teeth. She had to get out of there before it broke through the wall or took to the vents.

Shaking her herself, she stood and navigated her way down the hallway. Soft pants left her mouth. She swallowed roughly as she felt her ears twitch at the slightest noise. Her eyes stung with the idea of tears. A shudder ran through her bones as silence settled in around her.

The hallway she now found herself traversing was unlit. Her eyes, however, seemed to adjust to the darkness and she saw the world in shades of grey and black, which slowly turned into a few more dull colors. As she turned a corner, an odd sensation filled her mind. It felt like something was invading it, pulling out all that which plagued the last year of her life; that which she held dearest. She shook her head and the feeling receded.

Her ears perked up as she noticed a figure before her. She felt her tail automatically curl between her legs—which was an odd feeling—as she sniffed the air—another oddity. She smelled the soothing aroma of coffee and her thoughts flashed towards the destroyed estate.

Her hair prickled with an unknown fear as she walked towards the figure. Shivers ran through her but the smell of the coffee sparked a hope in her. She looked up to see a man with dark hair. Her mouth opened to question who he was, when he turned towards her. His blue-brown eyes met hers. That notorious smirk seemed imprinted on his lips.

"Keeva?"

Despite the chills, and raised fur, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was going to be okay; he was here to save her. He had come for her. A smile lined her lips as her ears went back.

_Wait. Ears?_

Tony didn't know she was—whatever she was. She didn't even know. Tony wasn't even alive. As the realization shuddered over her body in waves, she glanced up at the man again. He shifted, like melting chocolate, into a lion and rushed her.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

_He watched the screen as they fought their way through The Great Palace. A howl went up and she moved the orange haired sprite—Keeva named Zoey— into another part only to face the source of the howling. A black and white wolf with red eyes was dashing around. It paused and a wall of fire surrounded the sprite for a few moments. She laughed as the spell died and the sprite cast a light spell._

"_What's so funny?"_

"_The hellhounds in this game."_

_He looked at her. "Why is that funny?"_

"_The fact that it cast that fire wall spell and that it's afraid of a light spell. That's stereotypical."_

"_Hellhounds don't cast spells?"_

"_No, they do. But not all of them are affected by light."_

"_How do you know this?"_

_The smile immediately washed from her face as she bit her lip and furrowed her brow. "I… I don't remember."_

Whatever pillow was under his head was soft and warm. The world around was dark. A voice spoke low in the distance, pulling him from his memory.

"At least you can sort of communicate. Is he sick?"

Silence was heard.

"What's he sick with?"

A low growl rumbled against his ear.

There was a hesitation, then another question. "A demon sickness?"

Silence.

"The demons are keeping him sick?"

His eyes opened to see the Hellhound nod. If only Keeva could see it now.

He managed to rub an eye and yawn. When had he passed out? He tried to move again, but his muscles and bones screamed in protest. His entire body throbbed in pain. He attempted to sit up, but collapsed against the Hellhound again. His head pounded with a headache. He squinted at Steve.

"So… How's everyone been?" His voice was rough. He attempted to breathe in; pain stabbed at his lungs. A shiver ran through his bones.

Steve shook his head and looked at Jac. "Will those things come back?"

The Hellhound tilted his head from side to side before nodding yes.

"Can you move, Stark?"

His arm flopped off his stomach, unable to move anymore. "Yep. We can get going."

Steve leaned forward and felt Tony's forehead. His hand dropped to his cheek then pulled away.

"Thanks, Mom."

"You have a fever."

Tony shivered again. "Can't be. I don't get sick."

"You've been muttering things in your sleep, Stark."

He shrugged. "Since when is that a crime?"

"Since you're murmuring about Keeva killing Pepper."

He sighed. "Yes, I was living with a murderer."

Steve looked at Jacamo. "Perhaps we can carry him."

The Hellhound shrugged, glanced at Tony then nodded.

"We'd better start moving."

"Do I even get a say?"

"Stark, we need to get you to a hospital."

"Because that worked so well the first time."

He coughed; his lungs burned in response. He took several short gasps, attempting to catch his breath. He paused when his ears caught a screech echo through the air in the far distance. Jacamo growled lowly in response. He leaned back and took deep breaths. Black dots slowly filtered into view.

"Are those the demons that explode?" asked Tony.

Jac nodded.

"They're searching for me."

Another nod.

"Why?"

The Hellhound looked at him with raised brows.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She struggled to flee. Moving a left arm—paw?—then a right one. A back leg, then the other; she felt like a silly cartoon. Some buried instinct told her that her limbs should work together, but she didn't know how.

A clawed paw slashed her right side, slamming her into the left wall. A yelp escaped her throat as she tried to right herself. Legs and paws flailed; debris dug into various parts of her body. A musty scent filled the air and a chill ran from her head to the tip of her tail. A crash rumbled through the hallway.

She looked up to see the lion's massive clawed paw descending upon her. She lay on her back, her limbs curling into a fetal position. A large object crossed her vision as the paw disappeared. Snarls ripped through the air as the lion—_shape-shifter_—was attacked by the Necrotaur.

Taking advantage of the attention not being on her, she took a few moments to right herself and then crept down the hallway in the opposite direction; snarls echoing through the hallways.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

When he felt the real world around him, he immediately wished he hadn't. He felt he was in a subarctic climate—polar bears were probably lurking close. His head had stopped throbbing; it now was trying to explode. If he tried to open his eyes, any light that met his pupils burned them.

If he could speak, he would have begged for death. Whatever was plaguing him was sure doing a great job of making him plead for the end. His only savior in the dark moments was the memories that fought their way forward. The line of reality and imagination blurred in the face of what he thought was a fever.

_Images of flying in his armor flashed by. In the next, he stood in a room laughing with Cloak and Jacamo. Another flashed by of him proposing to Pepper. Faster and faster images flew by until they blurred before his vision. Things he thought he should know, or remember were jumbled in the haze._

_Suddenly, the rapid-fire images stopped as one vivid scene appeared before his eyes. At first all he saw was her, then like smoke spreading out a vanity appeared with a mirror and a few odds and ends, including a few blurred pictures around the frame. Marble flooring with a soft, dark-blue carpet made the next appearance. A bed took up space on the wall behind her with a door leading to a balcony on the right. It was dark outside with three colored fireflies—**Will-O-Wisps**—hovering around. **Red, gold, and blue.**_

_He looked back at her. He was angry, he could feel it. Her heels clicked as she walked to a chair in the corner—she hated heels._

_"He **made** you wear that ridiculous outfit?"_

_He watched as she grabbed a robe from an oversized chair and pulled it over herself, covering the tight swimsuit-like outfit and the rabbit tail. She returned to the vanity and took off the rabbit ears. "I chose to wear it."_

_"He made you wear it. Don't lie to me, Keevs. You would never, of your own freewill, dress up like a playboy bunny." He sighed as he watched her blink away tears. "He's hurting you, isn't he?"_

_She grabbed a cloth from the vanity and began wiping away the make-up that coated her face. "Shouldn't you be home with Pepper?"_

_He leaned against the vanity and looked at her. She wouldn't meet his eyes—she had been embarrassed by the revealing outfit. He repeated himself. "He's hurting you, isn't he?"_

_"If you must know, he would never do such a thing."_

_He immediately recognized her tone. "You only take on that accent when you're trying to deny things."_

_She looked at him. "Stark, there is nothing wrong."_

_He knew there were more lines of dialogue, other things had been said. However, none of them made it into his memory. He could only focused on was the fact she lied to him. She had been lying for a while—had become so well practiced, she was able to fool almost everyone. However, the answers had been shown on her skin like paint splatter, and she couldn't hide that as well. As quickly as she had looked at him, she turned away and he heard the dialogue pick up again._

_"What aren't you telling me?" he asked, despite knowing the answer. He wanted her to say it. He was **always** trying to force her to say it._

_"I've told you everything."_

_"Keevs—"_

_"You cannot call me that anymore, Stark."_

_"Because he doesn't approve?"_

_"No. Our nicknames are not appropriate any longer. You are getting married."_

_"That doesn't mean I can't call you Keeva. I've done so for how long?"_

_She shook her head and crossed her arms. "I am done having this argument. You are no longer allowed to call me Keeva. Now get out."_

_"Sure thing, Kee—"_

_He had stopped and called her something else that made her wince—it had been the **way** he said it. He hadn't meant for it to sound like that, but he had been frustrated with the way the conversation ended._

The scene dissolved before him, allowing him to drift off into the darkness.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The snarls through the corridors had long died down. Picking her way through the hallway, the scent of death lingered somewhere in the distance. She gagged. Upon realizing her sense of smell had increased, she immediately wished it hadn't. Her ears remained alert, twitching at the slightest noise. Her muscles poised to run at the first sign of danger.

_Coward_ echoed through her mind. In honesty, she was. How could she not be?

A soft rattling down the corridor caught her attention. Her tail curled partway under. Her skin cringed at the thought of what might be kept down there. However, her curiosity was also perked due to it being very different from anything else she heard.

Softly, she made her way down the path. When she reached the door, she peered in.

A beaten gurney stood in the middle. Atop the gurney sat a red head dressed in all black. She recognized the woman. In seconds, the woman drew a gun up with a _click_. She froze.

She gazed at the green-eyed—_assassin?_ Had this been where she was left? Who would intentionally abandon someone at a horrid place like this? Maybe it was due to the fact that woman—_Natalie?_—had attempted to bring her into a government agency. Regardless of the reason, she couldn't leave the woman here to die.

Taking a deep breath, she moved towards the gurney. The woman never took her eyes off her.

Her muscles curled and allowed her to spring onto the gurney with ease. Perhaps if she allowed whatever instincts she had to take over, she might move better. She wasn't surprised when she was met with a gun pointed between her eyes.

Natalie shook her head—as if pulling herself from a memory—and continued to stare. After a moment, the assassin shuddered. She partly wondered what she was thinking.

Moving to the cuff which claimed Natalie's right ankle, a claw slid out from her toe—_retractable claws?_ She slipped it into the keyhole. Her ears twitched as she listened for a snap. The latch released with a gentle tick and the cuff fell off. She then turned to her right ankle.

As she twisted her claw, the smell of death became overwhelming. Her vision blurred as she tried to focus on the lock instead of the faint dragging noise.

In a flash, she was dragged off the gurney; her back leg caught by what felt like a bony hand. She cried out and dug her claws into the gurney fabric. Her eyes widened as the cloth shred like paper under her claws.

She startled when a gun shot went off. A sickening crunch filled her ears as she climbed back onto the gurney. Her tail tucked between her legs as she looked at the door. Blood was splattered across the walls. She lowered herself against the gurney, hoping to hide from anything that came as a result of the gun shot.

A wail filled the hallway.

She shivered.

She felt the assassin shake her.

"Finish!" Natalie snapped. "I've got the door covered."

She looked up and weakly nodded. Her ears plastered against her head.

She made her way to the cuff on the left again. The chain jingled softly in her terrified paws. Her claw slipped out and cut into the assassin's skin. She swallowed and focused. The lock clicked open.

She startled as another gun shot went off.

A howl was heard in the distance.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Her claws worked to free Natalie's right wrist. She had only seen a few things of what was going on, but at least those howls from the undead hadn't actually caught up—

Her attention was grabbed by a shadow outside the door. She tensed and her claws scrapped against the metal. Fears of NT-818 flashed through her mind. A growl rumbled in the darkness. A dead looking greyhound leapt at Natalie. Oddly, she considered this a better alternative to the Necrotaur.

She turned and rammed her paw into Natalie's chest, slamming her into the flat padding on the gurney. The dead creature sailed overhead.

She turned back to the cuff and unlocked it. The assassin flipped, head over heels, and brought her gun up. A shot rang out in response.

She cringed again at the sound as she watched the creature collapse to the ground—most of its head gone.

Natalie spun towards her, shifting from foot to foot, stretching out her muscles.

"What the fuck is going on?"

She shook her head. Her ears twitched back, listening for the next attack.

Natalie walked past the gurney, then paused and turned toward her. "You walking or hitch-hiking?"

A brow rose. Natalie was offering to carry her? Her paws did ache. She moved and hopped onto Natalie's shoulders, sitting like a child.


	26. This Used to be a Fun House

**Hope your weeks been lovely! Any mistakes found are my own from my cold medicine induced state.**

**If you're following Seven, that should be updated in the next few days. If you're not, well, that's an account of where she's been this whole time.**

**Remember to be kind and review!**

**Thanks for reading! You all are _AWESOME_! I love you all!  
**

* * *

"_No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become.  
No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell.  
There are no maps of the change.  
You just come out the other side.  
Or you don't."  
― __Stephen King_

She trembled slightly as Natalie walked down the hallway. Her ears twitched trying to catch any sound that could be another attack. What had assaulted them on the gurney, she wasn't entirely sure. The only thing she was certain on was that they were considered undead.

Her thoughts traced back to movies she watched with Tony. She swallowed roughly and a tremble ran through her. She hadn't said the deceased's name in weeks. Without warning, the dark and gloom fell away from her vision.

"_What's Zombieland?"_

"_It's a great movie. Want to watch it?"_

_She looked over at him. "I want to know what it's about."_

"_The end of the world."_

"_Like Revelation or Ragnarok?"_

"_Those are two __**theories**__ on the end of the world. Another is that a virus will cause the dead to eat flesh."_

"_Oh, so it's literally about zombies, like the undead."_

_He looked at her, a brow raised in curiosity as a smirk lined his lips. "You really are strange. You know about zombies, but are oblivious to many other things. I can't tell if you're full of shit, or just naïve."_

"Okay," Natalie said, drawing her back from her reverie. "Here's how it's going to be played. You need to be alert. You can hear better than I can. Your sense of smell is better, and you can most likely see better as well. I need you to be my back up."

A large breath of air filled her lungs. She appreciated the pep talk Natalie was trying to have with her, but at this point the assassin would never believe the things she had seen. It was not easy to remain calm in the midst of terror. However, if they _were_ going to get out alive, they would need to work together. She nodded in agreement.

Natalie continued quietly down the hallway as she watched the surrounding area. Her nose twitched. The scent of death seem to fade the further they moved from the room. That was a plus. And as long as the musty smell didn't drift into the hallway she considered them safe. She would take a fight with what she deemed zombies over the Necrotaur any day.

She was partly surprised when Natalie holstered her gun and pulled her from her shoulders. The assassin cradled her like a toddler.

"Do you know what this place is?" Natalie asked softly.

She opened her mouth to explain it was a research facility. Only a few quiet growls came out. Her ears settled back against her head and she sighed. Being in this form apparently meant she couldn't speak.

"Have you been able at any time to speak?"

She nodded in response.

"Have you had odd things happen to you too?"

Odd didn't even cover it. She looked at Natalie and her ears perked up. Despite the calm exterior she was trying to display, Natalie's green eyes looked fearful. Maybe she understood the terror that resided in this place as well. It wasn't every day you ended up chained to a gurney. Finally, she nodded at the assassin.

She startled slightly as Natalie began to run her fingers through her fur. It was an odd feeling that could only be compared to a child having their hair played with by their mother—somewhat comforting given the circumstances.

"I wonder what a little wolf cub like you did to end up here."

So she was a wolf cub. That explained a few things. Her ears dropped momentarily as she scanned the debris the assassin was navigating through. _That's what I did to end up here._ She then sighed and looked back up at Natalie with a brow raised. Would Natalie get the clue that she was asking how _she_ ended up here?

The assassin shook her head, slowly. "I was doing my assignment like Fury wanted. It involved just sitting down and having a conversation with Stark. I didn't know he would mind."

She refrained from snorting. The cub remembered things very differently.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

When he woke up, he was disoriented. He was staring up at a fabric roof and he had the sensation of moving. He blinked and looked around. Trees were moving outside of windows. Music was playing and there were howls. He rose, taking in his surroundings.

He sat in the back of an SUV. Steve sat in the driver's seat, singing to whatever was on the radio and laughing. A smaller version of Jac sat in the passenger's seat howling to the music, with sun glasses—that looked suspiciously like Tony's Aviators—over his eyes. Tony rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat.

"Are those my Aviators?"

Steve lowered the music and glanced into the rear view mirror. "How are you feeling, Stark?"

A brow rose as he considered this question. His head no longer throbbed; the aches hadn't vanished, though they had died down. He still felt a bit short of breath, but it was nowhere near as bad as before. His right arm felt a bit weighted as he touched the reactor in his chest. His fingers connected with a soft click. Looking down, he noticed he still wore his gauntlet.

"Surprisingly alive," he responded as he stretched. Other than those dull aches and pains, nothing hurt. He looked out the window again. A sign passed stating he was somewhere in Virginia. "How long have I been out?"

"About a day and a half."

"What did I miss?"

"Not much," Steve replied and he tossed the Hellhound a Cheeto. It caught the orange treat in midair and crunched down on it.

"I must have missed something. Since when did you get to friendly with Jac?" Tony watched as the hound reached down towards the floor mat. Jac popped back up and held out a water bottle to him. He gawked. A four legged beast was using its front paw like a hand. He felt he was more surprised than he should have been. "Er… Thanks."

Jac nodded.

"We couldn't wake you, so he led the way out. Another one of those beasts appeared. As you know, my shield is not much use against them. Jac took it on and killed it. He then allowed me to put you on his back like he was a horse and led me towards a town where we rented this car. I hope you don't mind, I dug in your pockets for cash."

"You didn't really give me a choice now did you?" Tony checked his pockets. His wallet and cash were gone. "You robbed me blind while I was helpless?"

Steve held up his wallet. "We didn't take it all, Stark, just enough to feed us. Jac was hungry."

He grabbed his wallet and looked inside. "There are cobwebs in here, Wing Tips."

"We didn't take your entire life savings," Steve countered.

A chuckle in the form of growl erupted from the passenger seat. Jac leaned down again and pulled up a bag of Doritos. He tossed them into the back seat.

Tony opened the water and took a gulp. He then opened the bag of chips and popped one in his mouth. "So how much did this set me back?"

"I wouldn't start reserving a spot down by the river or buying a van."

He sighed. "Well, aren't you in a good mood?"

"One of us has to be."

"Is Jac in a nasty mood?"

The Hellhound snorted.

"Then who's in a nasty mood?" Tony's brow rose.

"You're about to be."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

A tremble shuddered through her bones in the silence that surrounded them. Natalie hadn't said a word since the admittance of working for Fury, which left the cub to her own thoughts.

She sat back up on the assassin's shoulders, peering into the darkness—one that was starting to wear on her. This place seemed endless. They had gone up a few more flights of stairs, and nothing had attacked them. Perhaps the upper floors didn't house the horrors of below.

She knew that Natalie was trying to keep it together, and the cub had a feeling the assassin had gone through hell and back. That put them on the same ground; scared, cold, and alone—well, not so alone anymore. Her ears twitched back, listening for any foreign sound.

"In order to get out of here," Natalie whispered, "we have to remain strong."

Who the pep talk was for, the cub couldn't be sure. It did get her thinking though. She had to remain composed. She swallowed roughly and gave a simple nod. If the assassin could keep her sanity, so could she.

The cub startled when Natalie stifled a gasp. She gazed into the room the assassin had stopped at.

They stood in the door frame of a room that smelled like—her nose twitched—dirt and grime. Decaying cribs lined blood splattered walls. Despite the room not being used in a long time, it still gave her the chills.

Hopping down from the assassin's shoulders, she moved into the room. Bits of dust fluttered as her paws moved over the floor. She glanced back to see Natalie watching with wide eyes. No one should ever have to witness this. The cub moved further into the room and towards a crib in the back corner. She rose onto her hind legs as her forepaws settled on the rusted metal bars. The crib stood empty, but that didn't stop the shivers from running down her spine. She sniffed the air, searching for the musty scent. Perhaps the Necrotaur had plenty of flesh to devour in the lower levels of hell.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He sat arms crossed, glaring out the window, clearly in the bad mood Steve had predicted. His Aviators—Jac had somehow managed to obtain—rested on his face and he mulled over the current problem.

Steve had said he was acting like a child about the entire situation. It wasn't as if Wing Tips was being forced against_ his_ will to reconcile with a man he had no desire to ever see again—or at least until a long apology and a lot of ass kissing had taken place.

Tony shifted and glanced at the Hellhound who slept next to him. The wolf-creature was very level-headed in spite of everything that had taken place.

"_Why am I not going to be in a good mood?"_

"_We're going to Washington D.C."_

"_I know that."_

"_To see James Rhodes."_

"_To what?"_

"_See Rhodes."_

"_That can't be what you said. That's what crazy people talk about. Do you need a straightjacket?"_

"_You need to end this fight with him, Stark."_

_Tony rolled his eyes and grasped at possible arguments. "Do you even realize what he did? Do you realize he tipped Conrad off to Keeva's existence? She could be dead because of him. __**I**__ almost died because of him. That's not something you just get over. And he'll be dialing up his bosom buddies in the military to come arrest me."_

"_No military. Just him and you."_

"_He tells you that now. Just wait until you see Judas's true colors, Cap. They're not pleasant."_

Tony hadn't spoken to Steve since. He did sit in the back like a child, but he had every right to. His arms unwound and a hand ran over the Hellhound's soft fur, which had turned silver after it had fallen asleep. He feared momentarily that Jac had died, but the rise and fall of his chest said otherwise.

Back and forth his fingers traced patterns through the Hellhound's fur. Again questions rose. He knew Rhodey lived in Washington D.C. He had been to the house on several occasions. But Tony also remembered a time when Rhodes lived on the West Coast. That led towards another question. He remembered Rhodey's wedding—was best man for it. However, he felt as if it had never happened. He could swear he remembered Rhodey being single.

It was a hard feeling to explain, and he could only chalk it up to feeling like déjà vu. The newest issues were in the same group as Pepper's death and the fact he was younger than he should be. Things weren't adding up.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She turned and left the room as Natalie began to explore. Moving down the hallway and around a few corners, she found a smaller room with broken television screens. She poked around, nudging things with her nose, as she tried to figure out where they were. She hopped onto a black wheeled-chair and looked on the desk.

Rows of buttons lined the panel, most of it covered in dust. Her eyes scanned the table and walls. On the wall to her right sat a map of the complex. She climbed up onto the table. The cub winced as her paws were poked by levers and buttons on her way to look at the map. She sniffed the air. It smelled like… She sniffed again. Like…? She couldn't place it.

Her nose dropped to the panel. It wasn't coming from there. Her ears brushed the wall and she looked up. A grin crossed her lips as she rose on her hind legs.

Her eyes scanned over the map. The facility was split into two parts which consisted of an upper level and a lower level. On the upper level, blue dots were scattered across with a few silver stars and dots. The lower level was comprised mostly of silver stars and dots with a few red dots here and there. Her eyes dropped to the legend in the bottom left corner.

Red dots showed hazardous subjects, blue showed non-threatening, and silver stars were where guard stations were posted. Small silver dots flecked areas on the map to show where guards were to be stationed at all times.

Turning back to the map, the cub found a green arrow stating where she was located. According to that, they were two floors away from the top level which is where the exit was located. This probably wasn't the best conceived lay out, since if you were on the lowest level and a catastrophe occurred your chances of survival were minimal—as apparent by the room full of deceased doctors she had come across.

The odd smell reached her nose again and she snorted. Her eyes glanced over the map once more. If there had been that many subjects here, where were they all? Maybe the zombies had eaten them all. A small smile crossed her lips at her attempt of a joke. It definitely came up short without Tony around.

The cub winced and her ears flattened against her head. There was the deceased's name again. A breath slowly left her lungs as she shook her head. Her nose twitched again. _Gosh, what was that smell?_ If she didn't know any better, she'd think it was iron. An iron smell like one would find in blood.

Her eyes turned toward the door. A pale man stood watching her with a small grin revealing two sharp canine teeth.

"What is one like _you_ doing in a place like this?"

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

After not being able to figure out why nothing in his life was adding up—and beginning to sorely miss Jarvis—he turned things from bad to worse. His attention focused on souring the moods of Steve and Jacamo for their part in forcing him on a one way trip to Casa de Rhodes. Once he had successfully dragged them down with his negative attitude—and remarks—he mentally listed reasons why Cloak would pay for what Tony considered a set up. By the time Steve pulled up to Rhodes' house, he was running out of logical ideas. _Reason 231, he wears a black cloak…_

Steve stepped out of the car and Jacamo bolted out the door into the street. The Hellhound shook himself then trotted to the sidewalk where Steve had settled in his wait for Tony to join them.

As he slid out of the car, the tension that accompanied him was almost as visible as the fog slithering in with the night air. He shoved both hands in the jacket pocket. With a sigh, he glanced toward Rhodes' residence.

The house was located on a beautiful street in Washington D.C. where all the grass was cut perfectly and the trees provided shade to those who walked on the smooth even sidewalk while being kept in the same shape. Not a speck of trash was seen, and all the houses were silent with lights glowing softly through the window as night enveloped the peaceful suburb.

Rhodes' two story house was light blue with a white trim. A porch ran along the front with steps leading up. The porch had several chairs meant to make company feel welcomed. In light of recent events, they seemed like death traps and Tony made a mental note to stay away from them.

Tony dragged his feet as Steve and Jacamo walked ahead of him on the cobble stone path to the porch steps. He tossed a glance at the flower garden which was now dead for the winter. It reminded him of his friendship with Rhodey. The only difference was the flowers would bloom again in spring.

Steve glanced toward him. "You might want to consider taking that gauntlet off."

He glanced down at the hot-rod red armor covering his arm and hand. He probably _should_ remove it. However, that would mean he was giving into Steve's requests. He felt his jaw clench and his muscles tighten as he debated following the command. After a tense moment, he let out a long breath and gave in. After a few hisses and clicks, the gauntlet slid off.

Following Steve's lead, he forced himself up the steps with Jac—in a smaller more dog-like state—now walking on his right. The creature thus far had been extremely loyal. He was the reason Tony was still alive. Despite the fact Jac wasn't able to talk, Steve explained the Hellhound had obtained a few plants and mixed some potion that had relieved Tony of the demon symptoms. The aches and pains he dealt with now, were his muscles getting used to moving again.

He was upset he hadn't witnessed the feats preformed by the Hellhound. To watch a four-legged creature act so human must have been a once in a lifetime moment. It made him hope to one day see Jac in action and watch what he could really do.

Tony took in a deep breath as Steve knocked on the door. Jac looked up at him, his ears settling back onto his head. He nudged his knee gently and his tailed wagged slightly. He was very grateful that the Hellhound had found him. Apart from saving his live on several occasions, he was the only comfort the world provided right now. Despite his hatred for fate, he was thankful she had allowed Jac to accompany him.

Tony looked up as a woman answered the door. He knew her as Amber, but that strange feeling accompanied his memories of her. A nagging feeling crept into his thoughts. Something was wrong about this. Not the wrong that he should flee, but it linked her to his thoughts regarding Pepper and his age.

A simple fact washed over him suddenly. He realized these strange occurrences and memories felt like the moment between asleep and awake; when you're still dreaming but it's so vivid you believe it to be real. It startled him slightly to realize his entire lifetime felt like that moment.

Her chocolate eyes looked over Steve, then Jac, and turned lastly towards him. A small smile appeared on her face. "It's good to see you made it."

Tony shrugged. "Not by choice I must add."

He heard an audible sigh from Steve and Jac, but the woman laughed gently in response.

"Come in from cold." Amber moved to lead them inside.

Steve and the Hellhound stepped into the house, leaving Tony to linger on the porch. With a deep breath he looked over the yard. Snow was now settling in, the street lamps shone softly along the street, and a breeze nipped at his cheeks. The fingers of his right hand ran over the cold metal poking out of jacket. It would be easy to run again; no one to stop him. His eyes settled on the car. He knew he could hotwire it. That wasn't a difficult task for someone like him—it was like plugging a cord into a socket.

"Stark, are you coming?"

Lips pursed to the right. After a roll of his eyes, he nodded and turned to follow Steve inside. He cast one last glance at the car and a brow rose. Standing near the back bumper was a man dressed in a suit. Who was that?

The man hadn't been there when he had first looked over the car, but there was no mistaking he was there now. While he wasn't entirely sure, Tony didn't believe the stranger was a demon—he wasn't shivering or on edge. He was certain, however, that it wasn't Cloak. Who that left, he didn't have a clue, but as the breeze picked up, the man disappeared before his eyes like smoke in the night.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

His crimson eyes settled on her. "Are you lost, little cub? Perhaps I can be of assistance."

Her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes widened.

"Is that a fearful heart I hear?"

The cub was certain if Natalie had been in her shoes, the smooth rich voice would have captivated her. Her tail swiped across the panel she stood on. She found it interesting that despite her fear, her muscles could move. A strange feeling then washed over her. She could almost feel the movements of the vampire. He shifted slightly, just enough to propel him forward in a pounce.

As he shifted, she felt her muscles curl in response. The world around her slowed as the vampire lunged. Her muscles uncoiled. She leapt over his head and into the hallway.

The cub tumbled into a wall, and quickly righted herself. Her limbs flailed as she tried to flee the vampire. It should be easier than this. How could she leap like that and yet not be able to run?

The answer came suddenly and in the feeling of a quiet whisper. She was thinking as a human. Their limbs move separately because they run on two legs. Creatures on four legs however, run very differently. Their back legs and forepaws move together in unison. She took a deep breath. Air released from her lungs as she focused on moving differently.

She felt the subtle shift of arms flailing into her front paws working together and her back legs moving together. As the change took effect, she found herself sprinting down the corridor with the vampire in hot pursuit. The cub slid around the corner where she thought she had last left Natalie. A chill ran up her spine as a musty scent overpowered the air.

Her legs now propelled her forward as a snarl echoed from behind. She felt the vampire lunged for her. Her hind legs boosted her just out of his reach. A sharp bark left her mouth—she wrinkled her nose at the odd feeling—as she attempted to locate Natalie.

"Wolf cub?"

The voice came from a corridor to the left.

The cub turned skid around the corner and froze. Natalie stood face to face with the Necrotaur; her eyes were wide and a tremble ran through her body. They were in serious trouble.


	27. In the Dark of the Night

"_A rooster only crows when it sees the light.  
Put him in the dark  
And he'll never crow  
I have seen the light  
And I'm crowing"  
_—_Muhammad Ali_

If anyone had a degree in making situations awkward, it was Tony Stark.

Since he had walked into the Rhodes' residence, he had done everything in his power to make his ex-best friend and wife feel uncomfortable. He knew Steve thought it was childish, but he was past caring. He wanted to make sure Rhodey knew the full extent of the betrayal. As Amber placed a dish of spinach and mushroom stuffed chicken breasts on the table, Tony laid in wait until Rhodes started eating. A few bites in, he made his move.

"I hope that steaming dish of guilt goes down easily. It's not always a real treat."

Rhodes looked up at him. "You're in my house and you disrespect me?"

"That's ironic coming from you. It didn't seem to be an issue when it was on my turf."

"She was an issue of national security, Tony."

"You're the reason she's now lost to the wind or buried in some God forsaken place with worms chomping down on her."

Steve sighed and cast an apologetic glance toward Amber. Jac sat up from his spot in the corner—ears alert—to watch the fight.

"We didn't know what she was capable of. _You_ didn't know what she was capable of."

"You met her!" Tony shot back. "You talked to her; saw how docile she was—"

"She kicked your ass in that ring."

"She's feisty."

"That's not an excuse. We didn't know what her purpose was."

"She lived with me for just under a fucking year, Rhodes. She wasn't going to hurt anyone."

Rhodes leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I know you're not mad at me, Tony. You're just taking your frustration out."

That comment left him speechless. Tony rose from the table at that point and moved toward the living room. Sinking down on the couch, he ran his hands through his hair and gazed at the floor. If he thought about it, he really wasn't angry with Rhodes—he knew that. Rhodey was, however, a great person to place blame on—since Tony hadn't dealt so well with losing everything.

When he had lost Pepper, he still had everything to his name. He might have been hollow, but he still had status. Now, he was alone in the world with nothing but Steve and the Hellhound. He figured it was only a matter of time before they were gone as well. Everything seemed to slip from his grasp like sand.

"I didn't know Conrad would get his hands on her first."

Tony glanced over as Rhodes settled on the couch next to him.

"Honestly, I thought the military would question her, and she'd be back in your house after a week or two. I had no idea that this would destroy your legacy." Rhodes sighed. "Things got so twisted, Tony. The way I handled it was all wrong. I expected you to react the way you did, so I was an asshole as well. I should have just asked you to let us question her, but, well, you get defensive about your stuff."

Tony leaned back on the couch and sighed. "Why did you hold me hostage in the hospital?"

"Order of superiors."

"I'm not buying it."

"Ross brought the pictures to me. At the time, I hadn't told Amber. I gave him the information I knew. I should have told him I would meet with you to discuss matters of questioning her—"

"Interrogating her."

Rhodes nodded. "Instead, I let him do things the way he wanted. He decided to keep an eye on you. He planned to show up at your door in the early morning to obtain the subject."

"She has a name, Rhodes. I know you remember it."

"He planned to take _Keeva_ in the early morning hours. The bombing beat us to the punch. We thought she died in the attack until you were questioning where she was and the issue of Conrad. Ross wanted you under surveillance in case she showed up."

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. Something in the set up didn't make sense. Something about the story didn't add up. It was another piece of an invisible puzzle. He looked at Rhodes.

"That's the truth?"

Rhodes nodded. "That's the honest truth, Tony. I swear."

He ran a hand through his hair as he rose. Perhaps Rhodey was being honest; he was after all 'happily' married to Amber. Tony moved toward the staircase, needing space. Now that he was feeling mostly better, his mind felt it was running on almost all cylinders again. He glanced back at Rhodes.

"I'm still wanted by the military."

"No." He shook his head. "I cleared that up when I found out you were coming here. They'll leave you alone now."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

_That easy?_ Tony thought. _Just another thing that doesn't make sense._ He then walked up the stairs to his room.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She felt like crying. Things weren't just bad; they were atrocious. A vampire stood behind her, toying with the fact he was going to kill her. In front of her, Natalie stood face to face with a vicious Necrotaur. Even if they happened to escape by accident, who knows what horrors lie between here and the exit.

The cub froze as the Necrotaur snarled at Natalie. In three horrific heartbeats, she watched the scene go from atrocious to hell.

_One._

The Necrotaur lashed out, slamming the assassin against the door frame with its clawed hand. A crunch echoed through the air as Natalie gasped.

_Two._

Its razor sharp teeth severed the assassin's throat. The iron scent immediately filled the air.

_Three._

Its glowing red orbs focused on her.

The cub's ears flattened against her head as her tail curled under her. Her mouth hung open wordlessly; eyes wide open and frightened.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Rhodey's wedding he remembered, but felt as if it had never happened—_shouldn't_ have happened. While the memories were there to prove it was true, his mind remembered Rhodey being single. They had both been bachelors. Amber hadn't come along until… Until when?

He turned on his side. Why was it that he was so young? He knew how old he was, but thinking back on it, he could have sworn he was older. He would be willing to bet he had witnessed more years than his body said he did. However, he couldn't be sure. Why were things not adding up?

He turned on his stomach. Pepper shouldn't be six feet under. She should be next to him in the Malibu estate. They should be happy living there while expanding Stark Industries. He only had two goals in life really. One was to grow the Stark name and the other was to marry Pepper. However, the latter left an odd taste in his mouth. That didn't add up either for some reason and he couldn't place why.

He turned to his other side. Two grey eyes peered at him. A head rested on the mattress with ears flattened. When had Jac entered the room?

The Hellhound caused another round of confusion to spring to mind. The creature next to him should be able to speak. He could have sworn the creature knew English; he thought he had conversations with him prior. He also thought the Hellhound should be able to do more than just act like a wolf—and something beyond making a potion to heal a sickness.

He looked at Jacamo. Before he realized what he was saying the words left his mouth, and he wasn't fully sure why. "Jac, this is because of Keevs, isn't it?"

A brow rose as the wolf tried to place the name. After a moment, realization widened his eyes. The wolf then tilted its head from side to side.

Tony sighed and reached out a hand. His fingers moved through a soft sea of black. With the comfort next to him, deeper concerns began to surface. "When the demons first told me she killed Pepper, I didn't believe them. I still don't think she did. But one small decision affects everything. That's what happened, huh? Keeva did something."

The Hellhound growled, its lips peeling back revealing sharp white teeth, and shook its head.

Tony sat up and rubbed his eyes. "This has to do with her, though. Isn't this her fault?"

He was surprised when the Hellhound grew in size and pinned him to the bed with a warning growl. Its mouth opened in a short snarl and it shook its head fiercely.

"Whoa, hey, I didn't know those were fighting words." Tony pushed against the Hellhound. "Do you think you can move now? I won't blame her again—unless she deserves it."

Jac snorted and his grey eyes studied Tony closely. He then shook his head and moved off of him, shrinking in size. Walking to the door, he scratched on the wood, casting a glance backwards in the process.

Tony sat up again, his eyes settling on the stern-faced Hellhound. "You're going to wreck the door if you don't cut that out."

Jac shook his head again. Tony watched as his paw rose and opened the door. He moved into the hallway, looking back only to see if Tony was following yet.

He wasn't sure why, but he got out of bed, pulled on Steve's jacket and put on his shoes—which, like the rest of him, had seen better days. He followed the Hellhound down the flight of stairs and to the front door, where Jac opened it up and walked onto the porch.

Tony had only just arrived. Why was Jac thinking of leaving? He cast a glance back at the house, which was silent for the night. How rude would it be if he just left without telling anyone where he was going? A soft, cold breeze entered the house. It seemed to beckon him out into the night which held a fresh blanket of snow.

Jac growled softly, and his paws stomped quietly on the porch, anxious to go.

The breeze caressed his cheek and seemed to whisper in his ear, _you weren't meant to end up here._

Tony nodded at Jac. "Give me a moment; I have to leave a note for Steve."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The Necrotaur sauntered toward her, a growl on its lips.

Despite death staring her in the face, she couldn't help but gaze at the body of the assassin. Natalie had just faced a horrible fate. She was about to do the same. A piece of rock shifted behind her. It was now a matter of who killed her first.

The dark creature's eyes shifted behind her as the vampire darted toward the assassin's twitching body. In one swoop, it lunged at the vampire, snarling.

The cub glanced as the two beings fought and rolled down the hallway. For another instant she was safe, because the blood had attracted the vampire. Her instincts urged her to flee, but her curiosity and shock drew her towards Natalie's body—like a moth to the flames. It wasn't one of her more intelligent ideas, but she couldn't stop herself.

As snarls rose behind, she reached the bloody body. She hopelessly nudged Natalie's thigh with her muzzle, partly willing her companion would rise. She swallowed roughly as the dying assassin looked over at.

Faint jagged breaths left the assassin's throat. As her final breath drew close, her green eyes faded to golden-yellow; her paling skin shifted into blue with what vaguely resembled a scaled pattern and her hair became a deeper red. The woman who replaced Natalie twitched one last time and remained still.

_Shape-shifters: two._

The cub backed up in moments; snarls echoed in her ears. She forced herself to move away from the confusion and chaos and continue down the hallway in the opposite direction. With her mind a blur, she thought it was strange that this shape-shifter didn't act like the other one. This one didn't seem to know anything about her. Which begged the question, was the other one able to read minds?

In the cacophony, a soft whistle caught her attention, quickly pulling her from her immediate thoughts. Her ears twitched as she continued down the hallway looking for the source of the whistle. Maybe not the smartest idea, but at this point her plans of escaping alive had left with the dead shape-shifter, and that caused her to think about the first one again.

Were there beings out there that could read minds? She was almost certain of it. The invading feeling that had happened when she ran into the creature that turned into Tony—she shuddered—felt as if it was prying everything from her mind. That explained why it knew to turn into Tony with the coffee smell. _Coffee equaled Tony._ Her ears drooped back and a soft sigh left her lungs.

The second time the soft whistle sounded, she noticed the snarling from behind her was turning to growls. She glanced back. Somewhere in the dark of the hallway, the fight was ending and whichever side won would be after her eventually.

The cub began to trot. She reached the end of the corridor and turned a corner as the whistle lowered. She startled as a hand grabbed her.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He sat on the Orange Line train on his way to New Carrollton. From there he wasn't sure where Jac would lead him, but this gave him plenty of time to attempt another go at figuring out what was going on. His mind traced across the facts. Pepper was dead, Malibu Estate was gone, Conrad had taken Keeva, he had left Steve in Washington D.C., a smaller version of the Hellhound sat near him watching the sleeping homeless woman a few feet from them, he was on his way to New York…

Things would be so much better if he hadn't lost Jarvis.

Tony's head rested against the window as his mind followed the paths of things lost. He heard the wheels of the train squeal as they finally came to a stop. He rose, along with Jac. The woman in the corner startled as the conductor told her she must exit the train now. The woman nodded, and slowly hobbled out.

As he exited, Tony watched the woman limp down the steps of the station. He felt Jac tug his sleeve in another direction, but something about the woman drew Tony's attention.

The woman was clearly homeless as well as hopeless—not unlike his own state. But, the world still gave Tony a fighting chance. He had money he could get back, and with a bit of luck and ingenuity Jarvis and Keeva would also be with him again under a warm roof. The woman walking off into the cold night, however, had none of that—wouldn't receive any of it.

Tony patted Jac on the head. "I'll be right back." He jogged after the woman.

"Ma'am!" He pulled out his wallet and a few hundred bucks then extended the money towards the woman. "Here, take this. Buy yourself a hot meal and some new clothes."

The woman's eyes widened. "I… I couldn't."

Tony looked at her. Her white blonde hair was filthy and pulled into a bun on top of her head. Her crystal blue eyes looked fearful of accepting the offer. Her weathered brown coat was barely holding at the seams. He pushed the money into her holed gloves. "You need to. There is no option in this."

She looked at the money in her hand; a small smile lit her grimy face. "Thank you, sir."

"No problem." Tony turned and trotted back over to Jac. The Hellhound began to lead them in another direction. Tony cast a glance over his shoulder and saw the woman smiling as if he'd just given her the biggest gift in the world.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The sensation of being picked up by the scruff of your neck was a hard one to describe. One could liken it to having your hair pulled. A silent yelp escaped her mouth as she was moved from a dangling position into a smothered one. Someone had gripped her tight in their arms and was now running—or she assumed they were running because she was jolting all over.

As her heart calmed down, she was able to smell a familiar scent, mixed with something unknown. The unknown reminded her of something sour—maybe milk. Her brain recognized it as fear. The familiar scent was one she had smelled earlier, when she was being carried by the assassin.

She shifted slightly and looked up to find Natalie alive, well, and frightened. The assassin was bolting down the hallway as fast as she could, leaving the nightmare behind them—for the moment. Up and down the cub bounced as they fled, and she prayed they would find the exit.

Natalie bolted up a stairwell she found in her seemingly aimless run. At the top, the cub found herself abruptly dropped to the ground and the assassin turned to bolting the door shut. The cub watched with one brow raised.

"Find me something to bar them with!"

She stared at Natalie momentarily—_how was she alive?_—before searching the surrounding area. She hopped over cement debris and found a metal pole buried under a pile of dust. Freeing it from its prison, she brought it over to the assassin and Natalie shoved it through the door handles.

Silence then radiated through the area.

Natalie collapsed against the door; her lungs sounding like they might give out.

The cub became aware of a heartbeat pattern that was not her own. As she closed the distance between them the beat grew louder. Her head cocked slightly to the right. She could hear the fast-paced pounding of the assassin's cardiac muscle. It was one of the weirdest feeling in the world, like an out of body experience.

She passed before Natalie and glanced around, her eyes peering through the dark. There was a chance they could make it out of here. The exit was close—one more floor up. She moved and nudged the assassin. When she received no response, her teeth grabbed Natalie's pant leg and tugged while growling softly.

Natalie looked at her momentarily, before taking a large breath. She then rose.

"Alright, where too?"

The cub turned and led her through the new territory; her paws kicking up little wisps of dust. The assassin trailed behind, looking tired and worn down; arms crossed, head bowed. A sigh left Natalie's lips. The cub wished there was a way to give Natalie some sort of hope. If only there was a way to get that across.

She paused. There was. If she remembered the map correctly, the cub knew there was another guard room around the corner. It would most likely have a map there as well.

* * *

**Hello lovelies, hope your week went well!  
**

**Enjoy, be kind and let me know what you think!**


	28. Rise and Fall

**Hello lovelies! I'd like to thank _you_, my amazing followers and reviewers. You guys rock!**

**Also, I put a cover up. (Thanks to Darkin520 for helping me with it) It'll always be there. Like?**

**A special thank you to Tune4Toons for looking over this. Any other mistakes are from me. I'm on week 3 of a nasty cold. Tis the season, right?**

* * *

"_A man may die,  
nations may rise and fall,  
but an idea lives on."  
_—_John F. Kennedy_

Natalie sat looking at the map. The cub stood by the door, on watch, hoping the assassin would be done soon. The soft light of the flashlight was a neon sign stating where they were. The longer they lingered, the stronger their scent became in that particular area. If the Necrotaur was still hunting—which the cub knew it was—it would find them quickly.

"Okay," Natalie said quietly. She moved to lead the cub out, her flashlight on and leading the way. "Let's go. I have an idea of where the exit is."

The cub snorted. She had known hours ago where to go. If the assassin hadn't needed a boost of hope then they would have been on the top floor, and possibly out of this hell by now.

She moved in front of Natalie, attempting to lead the way toward the next stairwell. The light shone down on her, casting her shadow across the floor. She twitched her ears and noticed in the shadow that the fur on the tips split perfectly into two. That was rather odd considering how much she had been through.

She sighed when she felt the fur on her neck and shoulders prickle. She wasn't sure what that meant in the scheme of things. She guessed it was close to a sixth sense telling her something was up. After all, she knew that creature's fur rose depending on the situation.

She halted when she noticed she had left the light. Had the assassin gotten caught off track?

With a soft growl in frustration, she turned and looked at the wide-eyed assassin. Her right ear lowered as her head cocked to the right.

"He's here," she said softly. A loud click in the silence echoed as the light died.

The cub's nose twitched. The Necrotaur wasn't here. Her brow rose.

A soft scurrying came down the hall behind them. Like a set of backwards dominos, her fur rose starting from where it had prickled on her neck and shoulders, running down her spine. Her lips rose as a warning growl came from her throat. As she attempted to reason why her body had reacted this way, something darted around the corner.

A short human in a black hood rushed down the hallway toward them. Covering its face was a mask pale white in color. Its eyes were ringed in black and it had black lips. The cub's eyes caught a glint in the dark; a knife was tightly gripped in its gloved hand.

A shot rang out and the human-like creature collapsed to the ground. The cub flinched—_stupid guns._

"We have to get—"

A wail rose from the depths. The cub would bet her left kidney it was a zombie. That gun was worse than the flash light or their scent. It was basically a homing beacon whenever the assassin fired it.

A hiss left her clenched teeth as she looked up at Natalie who was now gazing at her.

"We have to get out. Now!"

The cub almost rolled her eyes. Instead, she turned and trotted down the hallway, Natalie following closely.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He watched the dark-haired human—_his_ human, for the time being—next to him as the Amtrak rumbled down the railway toward New York City's Penn Station. His human's head lolled against the window as he attempted to catch up on sleep. He clearly needed a shave along with a new set of clothes—he was beginning to look homeless. He also smelled like he could use another shower.

Black claws flexed as the seat squeaked softly under the weight adjust. After everything that had happened and all the lines that had been blurred, Stark—_Jr._—remembered him. He couldn't speak—had been condemned to act like the beast he apparently was—but Tony _still_ remembered him. There was hope in that, right?

He cast another glance at the snoozing Stark Jr. then looked about the train. Most of the passengers on the public transit were attempting to catch up on sleep—except for the two in the back who were snorting crack.

The woman—_173 days_—sitting across the aisle from him and a row ahead twitched in her sleep as beads of sweat speckled her forehead. Her husband—_1825 days_—sat hovering over her, attempting to wipe the sweat from her face, with a furrowed brow and a frown. She had cancer—stage four, spreading into her lungs and blood stream.

The seat next to him squeaked and he quickly glanced back at his sleeping human. He noticed a slight shiver running through Stark Jr.'s bones. He would have to find a coat for his human. He sighed and watched his chest rise and fall; his mind shifting gears again.

Stark Jr. called him Jacamo—_Jac_—the Hellhound. He was sort of right, but the majority of Tony's memory lapsed. His name _was_ Jacamo and he was _part_ Hellhound. The part forgotten was more important—which is probably why his human didn't remember.

He hopped from the seat and moved down the aisle. As he made his way to a room in the back on the left, he couldn't help but notice those closest. A man—_32 days_—on his left coughed harshly in his sleep. An infant—_27,756 days_—started to fuss. The two drug addicts—_426 days_—snorted another line. He cringed at the numbers. It was a depressing reminder of why he couldn't stand Earth.

Lingering in the minds of every human was time. There were different times they needed to be places, or moments that created their memories and life, but this time and countdown was slightly different. It was a bomb waiting to go off and the effects were felt world-wide.

Reaching the end of the walkway, he entered the room on the left and locked the door. He placed his two forepaws on the sink and looked in the mirror. The face of the beast in the mirror was lightly speckled with fur of grey and white, making it look weathered and old. His ears settled back against his head as his grey eyes gazed through the mirror back at him. He shouldn't look like this. What had time done this time?

That was a foolish question. He knew bits and pieces of what had happened. He shook his head and reached for the faucet handles. He flexed his paws—which were further from paws and more like a hand. The squeaky handle spun under his grip and water poured into the sink.

Balancing on his back two legs, he dipped both clawed paws under the sink and splashed water on his face. He snorted. _Do __**beasts**__ stand on their back legs and use the faucet?_ It was absurd to be compared to a four-legged creature that wasn't as intelligent as he. His claws then raked through the matted fur on his muzzle and head. _Do __**beasts**__ take care of themselves?_ Lowering himself onto his haunches, he stuck his muzzle into the sink and began to drink out of the faucet. _Well, this might be a typical beast reaction…_

After licking up his fill, he turned off the water and glanced around the small bathroom. He shook himself from head to foot and tried to regroup.

_They_—the people responsible for all the trouble—had moved sooner than expected and destroyed life as Stark Jr. had known it. He was here to do whatever he could to put Tony back on track—which would start with this move to New York. Others had already assisted in this task—whether they knew it or not. However, being what he was he had a little more power then say, the captain out of time.

In order for the next part to start, he needed to get Stark Jr. to a designated location. With the cold and snow, his human wouldn't make it without becoming an icicle first. That situation could be remedy easily if the appropriate things had been moved. With a breath, he turned off the lights in the bathroom and melted into the shadows.

In a swirl of smoke, he appeared in a dark room; his eyes adjusted quickly.

In the middle, stood a glass table with metal legs—it was nothing of consequence at the moment. His claws clicked across the smooth cement floor and past seven large wooden shipping crates which lined the room. In the opposite corner sat a large suitcase. Not everything had been salvaged or saved, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

He sat next to the suitcase and unzipped it. Digging through some clothes, he came across a thick coat—_that would work_. He took the coat in his mouth and cast a glance around the darkened room. It would be ready when the time came for it. The mastermind behind this plan had thought of everything.

Smoke swirled around him, and he appeared in the train bathroom again. If everything was going to right itself, the plan was contingent on Stark Jr. making it to New York City and staying there. If Tony chose another path, who knew how long it would take before they'd have another shot.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

After a good twenty minutes of traversing through rubble, the cub found the staircase and they both scampered up it. Her eyes quickly scanned the area. The top floor seemed as if it had taken the least amount of damage. While rubble still littered the place, glass cubicles sat in neat rows, mostly intact, and a linoleum floor with a speckled design lay under her feet covered in dust with minimal damage. In the middle of the room, however, the ceiling had caved in, revealing the dark night sky. Freedom was close.

Behind her, Natalie held a pistol gripped tightly in her hands, ready to shoot at anything and everything. It slightly annoyed the cub because she was certain they were being followed due to that last shot. Despite not smelling the musty scent, she knew something was in the dark crevices her eyes couldn't see.

As the cub progressed further into the room, she was overwhelmed by the scent of decay. Something had died in here recen—_oh, zombies._

Immediately, she slid against one of the glass cubicles, flattening herself against the smooth surface. Natalie followed her lead.

Her fur rose as the assassin cocked. That damn thing was going to get them killed. She shook her head and turned her attention to the stairwell.

The milky eyes that rose from the steps immediately found them. It was another dead-looking greyhound. With a snarl it bolted for them. She heard the soft snap and braced herself for what was to follow.

The cub covered her ears and shut her eyes as the gunshot vibrated in her skull. Ever since she had escaped captivity her senses had seemed glitchy. It probably should have forewarned her she was bound to turn into another creature.

As another howl came from the stairwell, so did another gun shot, then another. Death would be imminent if Natalie didn't put the damn gun away.

A shriek caused the cub to startle and look around. Natalie had fallen next to her, kicking up some of the dusty floor. She was attempting to beat off a zombie that appeared from the cubicle they crouched near.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony awoke to the Hellhound sitting next to him. Jac appeared to be snoozing on a charcoal grey coat. Where he had gotten that, Tony wasn't sure. He turned his attention outside the window. Night still firmly grasped the world in its clutches as the train brakes shrieked in a maddening attempt to stop the transit.

After rubbing his eyes, he stood. It was then he noticed Jac moving off the coat and issuing toward it. Tony picked up the heavy coat and shrugged it on. He looked at the Hellhound who seemed to nod his approval.

"You got this for me?"

The Hellhound nodded once.

"Thanks. I suppose. Where did you steal it from?"

Jac turned from Tony and led the way off the bus. As soon as they exited, Tony found his way to the bathroom. Jac growled in annoyance.

"You've carted me about 230 miles over the course of about five hours without food and no bathroom breaks. Deal with it. Occupy yourself. Find a cute poodle or a tree and relieve yourself."

Jac sat with a roll of his eyes allowing Tony to use the bathroom. After taking a few minutes to himself, he washed his hands and looked in the mirror. The full beard that had grown in during his time on the run made him look more homeless and less like the ruggedly handsome hostage he had been when he returned from Afghanistan.

He rubbed his eyes and sighed. _How in the world did I get myself into this?_ His eyes opened. The white ceramic sink he stood at was chipped in several spots. _Would it kill someone to let me stay at the Ritz? Is it really—_ He jumped as his eyes rose to the mirror and he gripped the sink. Two grey eyes gazed at him through the mirror, almost the same height as him.

He turned to the Hellhound. "What the fuck, Jacamo? Are you trying to kill me?"

A smirk clearly lined the beast's face.

"I'm calling animal control on you as soon as I find a phone."

The Hellhound shrugged, clearly pleased with himself or so said the gleam in his eyes.

"What happens if someone walks in?"

Jac's grey eyes lazily moved toward the exit as a loud breath left its nostrils. They then focused on him again. His claw clicked thrice on the tile.

"I know it's three o'clock in the morning." His brow rose. "I'm starting to understand you now. Obviously I need sleep."

Jac's brow rose and his ear tipped forward. He drew in a deep breath then snorted.

"And a shower. I get it."

Jac turned toward the door, his bushy tail swishing against the cold tile. Tony dragged his feet as he followed the Hellhound.

As they exited the station, Tony didn't miss the way the Hellhound seemed to scan the perimeter. If the dark canine was trying to remain on the down-low, the fact he now stood almost six feet tall was not the way to go about it. However, the way his grey eyes watched the area for anything that hid in the darkest of the night gave Tony cause to feel on edge. Perhaps it was a good thing the Hellhound was so large. He would be willing to bet he was still hunted.

As they walked up West 33rd street, the Hellhound shrank in size again. It easily walked on top of the near foot of snow that covered the ground. Other than the misty breath surrounding his muzzle, he also seemed unaffected by the cold. Tony on the hand shoved his hands under his arms and shivered as he trudged behind.

"Slow it down, Lassie. I only have two legs. And I'm not gifted in the walk-on-snow department."

Jac halted and looked back. His tail wagged impatiently as Tony caught up.

At the corner, Jac turned right onto 8th street. Tony contemplated strangling the Hellhound momentarily. Why had it been so important they left Washington D.C. that night? Why couldn't he have camped out at Rhodey's and left in the morning with Steve? Actually, why had he gone to Washington D.C. in the first place? He hadn't actually gotten anything out of the side trip except being back on good terms with Rhodey.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

_Why didn't I check first?!_

The cub lunged forward striking the dead man in the face with her claws. She felt the assassin move backwards—away from the dead. The cub slammed her paw on the zombie's head in an attempt to smash it—no such luck. A hand of the undead gripped her front paw. Instantly, she snarled as she snapped her jaws around its wrist. As her teeth severed the hand clean off, something hit her back. She yelped and hopped back.

An arm lay on the ground.

Her eyes widened. Where had that come from? In the next instant, some long landed in front of her. _A leg? Is it raining body parts?_

The next thing to come down was oval. It fell in front of her and rolled slightly to the left. As she focused on it, she realized it was Sophie's head. _From the ceiling?_

She attempted to back up as her eyes glanced upwards, spotting a vent—_Necrotaur!_ Something caught her forepaw and she shrieked—her first human sound in she couldn't remember how long.

Her eyes glanced down in enough time to see the zombie sink its teeth into her flesh. A shiver ran through her bones; she remembered the consequences.

A shot rang out as her eyes jammed shut. The sickening crunch followed moments later as did a mist of blood.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

After almost half an hour of walking, he was still answerless. He was also cold, hungry, tired, and now frustrated that he was walking through New York City at almost four in the morning with no clue as to where he was going. The Hellhound kept a steady pace in front of him as they neared another street. The road circled around some sort of area with water treatments and greenery that was dormant for the winter. Something about it felt familiar.

"Where are you leading me, Clifford?"

The Hellhound snorted and crossed at the crosswalk.

"That's very civil of you to obey traffic laws. You're not really obeying any other law by stealing coats and keeping people up till the sun rises, but at least you can follow the white walk sign."

Jac ignored him as he continued towards a sky rise. At the doors, the Hellhound sat and looked at Tony.

He sighed as he trudged over and glanced at the locked doors, then up at the sky scraper. Something about it snagged his memory but he couldn't recall what. He looked around at the dormant greenery, the traffic circle and then the street sign: _Columbus Circle_. He knew this place.

* * *

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	29. End of the Line

**Sorry for the late update. I was away on a school trip this past weekend and had a _ton_ to do.**

**Thanks to all my lovely followers. You guys rock! You guys are amazing!**

* * *

"_You'll stay with me?'  
'Until the very end,'"  
_—_J.K. Rowling_

_Her legs swung back and forth as she sat on the starry granite counter top. Next to her sat a leg from the Mark VI. She handed him a screw driver and he began tinkering with the red and gold limb. "Worst way to die?"_

"_Worst way? That's not a short list."_

"_Well, pick one…"_

Ringing, that was the only sound at first.

When that died down, she realized her face felt wet. Her stomach churned in thought.

She blinked and looked at the carcass before her. The scent of death filled her nostrils. A stinging on her left leg brought the weight of reality slamming down on her. Her heart pounded not only in her chest, but through her body and mind, and screamed in her ears.

Minutes—_maybe_ hours—now marked her life. A simple mistake and one moment of curiosity had led to the ringed set of teeth imprints on her foreleg. If her face could pale, it would. Her breath came out in short pants.

She was jarred suddenly from her thoughts. The assassin grabbed her and bolted for the broken ceiling. A growling echoed behind them.

_Growl?_ She had to blink away the mist in her eyes to catch a glimpse of the large grey beast slinking towards them. _The Necrotaur._ She remembered thinking that as she saw the vent above where the limbs had fallen. The creature was playing with its next meal; ensuring fear gripped its next victim body and soul. _Damn, that's clever._

Somewhere in the cacophony of her frantic heart she heard the assassin's short breath—_labored and panicked_.

Natalie weaved in and out of cubicles in her mad dash toward the ceiling. The cub couldn't see why—couldn't begin to focus on why. Her eyes stung. Her chest felt as if it might cave in and explode at the same time. She slammed her eyes shut as reality swallowed her whole.

She was bitten.

A jagged breath left her lungs.

"_If you're bitten, you're killed or left."_

Tony had told her that.

Tony…

Tony had once also told her he didn't want to die alone. Conrad had brought that nightmare to reality.

Conrad…

Did Conrad know she would be bitten? Did he know this would be her fate? He called her a competitor; a threat.

Now she was just dead.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

It had been a bitterly cold night. If the Hellhound hadn't been there as a pillow, Tony wasn't sure how he would have made it through.

Jac had gotten them into the tower—at first thought, illegally—and taken him to the top floor. While the cement floor, drywalls, and windows had all been installed and placed, nothing else had been done. The cold wind seemed to find its way in via cracks in the building design and nipped at his cheeks. When he lay down in a corner to sleep, the frozen cement worked its way through his clothes, turning him slowly into a snow golem. As he shuddered in the moments between wake and sleep, Jac had curled up next to him providing the warmth his body was desperately seeking.

The sun was now—once again—making its way back down into the horizon for the night. Tony sat in a corner of the empty room at the top of the tower—stomach roaring in hunger—staring at the Hellhound. He absentmindedly rolled his gauntlet back and forth on the ground next to him.

"So, you couldn't have even gotten me Scotch?"

Jac rolled on his side and snorted.

"I got to be honest, watching you for the day is not something I planned on when I left Rhodey's house. I was rather hoping to get some answers, and a good meal. Or a Scotch."

In one swift move, the Hellhound hopped to his feet and walked towards the window. The dusk sun reflected faintly off his obsidian coat. A sigh left his lungs and his ears went back.

"Are you okay?"

Tony watched as Jac remained motionless. Only his breath appearing against the glass with each slow exhale showed he was still living. The Hellhound eventually blinked then turned to Tony with a wag of his tail and walked to the staircase. His head issued toward the door.

"You're taking me somewhere else?"

He tilted his head from left to right.

"Just a walk?"

Jac nodded.

Tony sighed as he took his hand off the gauntlet and stood. "Fine, but this better include food and clothes."

Jac sat back on his haunches and brought his paws up to form a heart. Tony paused, momentarily debating if Jac was really making a love sign, when the Hellhound snorted. Despite his laughter and antics, Tony noticed something in his demeanor was off—something had changed since the night before. He walked to the Hellhound and placed a hand softly in his fur.

"Alright Lassie. Where to?"

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Time seemed lost. She felt Natalie struggle to climb up the rubble in a mad dash to escape through the roof. The dying cub knew she was no help in the situation; her mind succumbed to her fate. What was happening around her seemed fuzzy and surreal. She heard gasps and cries from the assassin, a gunshot—maybe two, maybe more—but she was disorientated.

"I need you to focus!"

Natalie's plea caused her to look over. The assassin held her up to grab a ledge above.

"Reach for it!"

With lead pumping through her veins, she stretched for the ledge. Her claws pushed from her paws and she latched onto the cement.

"Pull yourself up!"

Her limbs worked in unison to bring her hind legs to the cement. The claws on her back paws sunk into the cement. She then moved her front paws further onto the top, hoisting herself onto the ledge.

She stood up shakily as the night wind drove razors through her fur. She turned and looked down at Natalie. The assassin stood, feet firmly planted one pistol cocked and aimed at the Necrotaur.

Its back legs coiled. In one swift motion it lunged for Natalie. The cub heard a soft breath leave the assassin's lungs. She shut her eyes as a shot went off. Moments of silence passed and she feared that when the world came into view again her companion would be dead.

When she opened her eyes, Natalie stood below her, gazing at the dead Necrotaur. The assassin then turned and looked up at her.

"We're okay… for the moment."

The cub gripped the cement with her claws and reached down. Natalie took hold of her paw and used it as leverage for climbing up the broken cement and to the roof.

Once on the ledge the assassin didn't stop. The cub felt herself hauled into her awaiting arms and she jogged to the edge. She heard soft pants leave the assassin's lips.

The next thing she realized was that they were going down. Shoes were softly clicking on metal. The sound of grass crunching soon followed.

She forced herself to focus at the surroundings. Behind them was a large grey building, built into part of a mountain range. Natalie was following the landscape, which plunged them into a forest. If any time was good to show the assassin the bite, now was the time. She could be left close to this place and Natalie would be safe.

As she moved to bring out her bitten paw, Natalie spoke.

"That zombie who bit you… He seemed familiar. Like I knew him. I just keep seeing his face in my mind and thinking that I should remember him."

The cub looked up at the assassin. Why did she still choose to save her and take her if she was infected? She moved her paw and showed the bite. Natalie glanced down.

"I don't believe that mumbo jumbo about a bite turning you into a zombie. Don't let that get to your head. There's been a lot of shit we've seen, but that bite isn't going to turn you. And we have to be close to civilization now, or I hope. We'll find S.H.I.E.L.D. and get you the medical attention you need."

The cub's head nuzzled against the assassin. If Natalie didn't believe in mumbo jumbo, maybe there was a chance for survival. Perhaps the horrors spoken in fairytales were only to keep children in order. Her ears perked up when she heard Natalie swear, and halt.

"That bastard is back."

The cub looked up to see Natalie staring at something. Following her gaze she saw a white piece of paper attached to the tree. An oval was drawn on it with two 'X's where the eyes should be. Capital letters were hastily written.

**NO WHERE TO HIDE**

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony was surprised when Jac led him to the park. He hadn't been expecting to go to a five-star establishment, but he had at least hoped for a place with good food. Instead, he was looking over a park covered in snow.

Just across the Columbus Circle round-a-bout sat Central Park. Tony was sure the tower had cost someone—probably him in some way, shape or form—a pretty penny. It was considered prime real estate.

As he meandered down the paths with the smaller version of the Hellhound, he felt an odd tingly feeling swarm through his veins. He remembered vague memories of walking through there when he was a child—whenever that was. The feeling however, was connected with the fact he could have sworn he walked through when he was older. Strolls in the summer nights with Pepper, or runs with Steve were all possible scenarios and felt strangely familiar as if they had taken place before. He passed an ice rink at one point and the thought of skating with Keeva and hockey with Rhodes crossed his mind.

As he rounded a corner, the scent of hot dogs met his nose. His stomach growled again. The speed of his walk increased as he searched for the vendor that would save him from starvation. When he found the man selling food, he just about hugged him as he bought several more hot dogs then he should have.

It was then that Tony looked for Jac. The Hellhound wasn't far behind, only sitting a few feet from where Tony stood. Despite the attentive look, Tony saw the grey in Jac's eyes slowly becoming more like ash from a dead fire. A flicker in the back of his mind took light. Jac acted like this when something happened. What that something was, he couldn't place. He walked over to the Hellhound.

"Let's go eat." As Tony led the way to a bench, he hoped the food would liven up the Hellhound a bit.

For the first few bites of hot dog, he attempted to make the Hellhound sit and beg, roll over and walk on his hind legs. Jac's eyes narrowed on him and by the last command, his lips were pulled back slightly revealing sharp teeth. Tony understood the less then subtle hint and allowed the Hellhound to eat in peace. After they had their fill, they enjoyed a continued stroll through the park at sunset.

At one point, Tony picked up a stick and tossed it ahead of Jac. The Hellhound stopped and looked up at him, clearly not pleased with the dog act.

"Go fetch."

Jac glowered, snorted once then trotted off.

He wasn't sure why the Hellhound had glared at him. Normally, Jac rolled his eyes and shook his head when Tony treated him like a dog. The Hellhound should be use to the constant torment. Tony paused. _I use to torment him?_

Tony shook his head and turned to look around the snow covered park again. Here and there snow men lined the once grassy areas, smiling and winking at him. A few icicles hung from tree branches. The jingle of horse drawn carriages rang in the distance. In the last rays of the sun's light, the snow glistened. It felt like a peaceful wonderland.

Tony was quickly pulled from that state of mind as something smacked him in the head. As his hand went to his temple, he glanced down and saw a stick lying at his feet. He looked up to find Jac seated on his haunches twenty yards from him, forearms crossed and head tilted with narrowed eyes. Clearly, he didn't find the thought of fetching a stick fun.

"Alright, I get it. Let's continue walking."

As they continued, Tony began to realize Jac was walking the perimeters of the park, seemingly almost afraid to enter. Tony slid into the habit of watching his surroundings, and wondering if there was more to the park then the winter wonderland it displayed. He was interrupted only by the next act of the Hellhound.

The jovial attitude Jac had once displayed was now replaced by the slow amble as if he was walking the green mile. With his nose nearly touching the ground, he walked into one of the snow covered fields. Tony watched as he sank into the snow. Jac then rolled in the white blanket. In Tony's mind it was very dog-like, which meant very _unlike _Jac.

Shaking the snow from his fur, Jac rose and his head pointed toward the pale rising moon. His ears lowered as his jaws opened. A low, haunting howl came from his lungs. Tony realized he was mourning. He had seen it happen before, but couldn't remember when. He watched as the Hellhound lowered its head and rolled again in the snow.

As the sun dipped over the horizon, Tony stood watching the Hellhound continue this act. As the last few stragglers returned to their homes for the night, the streetlights flickered on, and the Hellhound's ears perked up. He shook his head and Tony watched as the ashy-grey eyes cleared into storm grey again. Jac's limbs stiffened and he grew larger. He bolted to Tony's side—ears alert, nose twitching, slightly trembling—and began shoving him back towards the streets and ultimately the tower.

As they neared a street, Tony could see a statue, blanketed in snow in the distance. He recognized it as 107th Infantry Memorial. With that recognition came the realization they were coming up on 5th Ave. He halted. Whether he had the memories available or not, he knew the city and its streets, which meant—

It was then the first ghastly cry echoed through the frozen trees.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

After the finding of the note, the assassin had been on high alert, muttering things about "_not again_" and "_this can't be happening._" The cub felt she was little use in Natalie's seemingly delusional talks. Her mind was more focused on other matters anyway.

As night fell around them, Natalie had found a small elevated cave in the mountain and hid in there with the cub. She set the cub down and leaned against the back wall. The cub watched as she checked her pistols and muttered "_one shot left_". The cub had swallowed then and hoped it was for her.

She now watched as the assassin's head lulled forward against her chest; her eyes closed. It was then a small breath left the cub's lungs, and she allowed herself to shiver. As she stared out into the dark night, she felt the cold stone below her grow hot under her rising body temperature. She looked down at her leg. The wound, even in the lack of light, was gruesome. Shades of dark red and black seemed to spread from the original bite, and she could smell a faint scent of decay. It also felt cold.

A shaky breath entered her lungs as her teeth bit her lip.

Hindsight was one of the worst things to discover; even worse when it sought you out.

Tony had once told her he didn't want to die alone, but he had. In an attempt to save her, she had brought one of his worst fears to existence. It was her fault he died alone. In hindsight, she was the reason he suffered.

Now, she sat at the lip of the cave using whatever minutes she could gather to protect the assassin sleeping within, hoping to gain just enough karma points to get her out of the worst fate imaginable when she left this world.

Her ears flattened against her head as she sniffed. A tear slid down her cheek—_could wolves cry?_

In the dark of the night, as the storm clouds gathered again, she looked into the gloom surrounding them. It was only natural that death would come for her. She had been responsible for Tony's death, and now, she would meet him in the afterlife. Would he forgive her?

"_Worst way? That's not a short list."_

"_Well, pick one. Say it's a post apocalyptic world with zombies."_

"_Zombies?"_

"_Yeah, like the Walking Dead."_

_He shook his head and fiddled with the calf of the leg. "You watch too much television."_

"_I only started watching that show because of you. Now, what's the worst way to die?"_

"_Alone."_

_Her brow rose. "You're afraid to die alone."_

_He stopped and looked at her. "I prefer to die alone."_

_She rolled her eyes. "Be serious."_

_He sighed, moved the leg then hopped up on the table beside her. "You're asking the worst way to die in a world full of zombies and __**you**__ want __**me**__ to answer seriously?"_

_She nodded._

_She watched him roll his eyes and smirk. "So, in the post apocalyptic world, there are very few people left—as you __**should**__ know. If you're bitten, you're killed or left. If it happened to me, I'd rather be killed. I wouldn't want to be left alone to deal with the hordes. Can you imagine fighting all those zombies and then being overwhelmed? Can you imagine having your flesh torn from your body as hundreds of hands and teeth tore into you? Or worse, can you imagine the slow turn with a fever scorching your body and the amount of pain you'd be in? I'd rather they shot me. It would make dying easier, and safer for those I cared about."_

"_I can't believe you're getting sentimental on me."_

"_If you ever tell anyone, I'll deny it."_

_She chuckled softly and looked at him. "I'll make sure Jarvis plays this recording."_

_He hopped off the table and faced her. "Jarvis isn't a snitch. And anyway, it wouldn't matter because the walkers would never get me. I've taken those Facebook quizzes. I wouldn't have to be worried about getting bitten. I would save everyone and have a strong group, because I'm Iron Man."_

_She pursed her lips momentarily. "What if it was just the two of us and I was bit?"_

"_What's with the less-than-fun 20 Questions?"_

"_Just a bunch of what if's. They're fun sometimes."_

"_About as much fun as a root canal." He moved closer to her, his hands settling on the table beside her legs. He was quiet as she watched his eyes look around. He finally cleared his throat._

"_If it was the two of us, Keevs, I wouldn't let you get bitten. If we were in a group, I wouldn't let you get bitten."_

"_But if I __**did**__ get bit and it __**was**__ only the two of us."_

"_You're never allowed to watch the Walking Dead again."_

"_Answer my question."_

"_Fine. I'd leave you."_

_She sighed. "That's real nice of you."_

"_What can I say? Chivalry is dead."_

_Her eyes narrowed playfully on him. "You know I would shoot you. If there was one bullet left, and we were surrounded, I would use it on you."_

"_No, you wouldn't."_

"_Yes, I would. I would do that for you. That way you wouldn't whine like a girl about bring left." She laughed._

_He shook his head and met her gaze, causing her cheer to fade. His voice was low when he responded. "You wouldn't, because I wouldn't allow you to be in that position. If it was the two of us and we were __**both**__ bitten, I would do what I could to keep you safe."_

"_But how would I be safe if I was bitten and surrounded?" Her brow furrowed, a puzzled look spread across her face. "That only means I would turn or die."_

"_I would shoot you."_

_Her brow rose. "But that would mean… you would be alone… and left to the walkers."_

_He was silent for a second before blinking and looking into her eyes. "I wouldn't leave you to the horde, Keeva. I wouldn't make you suffer that. I would do what I could to spare that pain. Walkers or not, I would stay with you until the end, until we knew it was your time. Even if that meant I was left alone."_


	30. The Green Mile

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* * *

"_Do not go gentle into that good night,  
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light"  
_—_Dylan Thomas_

Tony knew it wasn't good when the first shadow appeared blocking their path. He knew it was bad when a second one appeared, flanking the first. Jac circled around him protectively—hair on hackles raised. When a third appeared to the right, a knot formed in his stomach. He glanced back; two more were shifting through the woods.

The middle one in front of them sauntered forward, while the others remained still. Tony swallowed as he looked up at the beast who was clearly the leader.

It was similar to the one from his dream a while back, and from the ones who attacked him on the road with Steve—except this was definitely closer to nine feet in height, and that was on four legs. As it approached, its sharp talons dug into the frozen ground, tearing up mounds of dirt. Its beady black eyes—which reminded Tony of a shark—focused on the Hellhound who now stood in front of him, teeth bared. A growl rumbled low in its throat.

Jac shrugged in response.

Tony's eyes widened. The Hellhound could speak their language?

The beast snarled, bearing its sharp, jagged teeth.

Jac pointed to his muzzle.

Tony watched as the beast's face drew closer to the Hellhound. Two giant horns protruded from its forehead and curled back in a manner similar to a ram. Its face was eerily human except for the elongated nose and jaw. Its nostrils were also narrow and closer together. It released a breath of air and a nod.

He watched as its clawed hand rose and slammed into the ground. Two grey wisps rose and weaved towards Jac's muzzle. After spinning around it, they disappeared in a flash.

Jac stretched his jaws wide then slammed them shut with a loud _clack_.

"You _lost_ the girl?" the Hellhound questioned.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She jarred awake as the water swallowed her whole. Her limbs shot out in all directions as she struggled to right herself. Flashes of blue light entered her vision and she was reminded of falling into a pool; no, not _a _pool—the one from the Malibu mansion. In the next instant, she was pulled from the aquatic depths and air reached her lungs.

The cub spluttered, blinked and looked around. She was by a river, still in the middle of the woods. Natalie sat next to her filling a water skin.

"How are you?"

As she tried to stand, her body banked left and slammed into the ground. Her eyes looked at the limb, and shivered. It had swollen to almost double its normal size with the swelling creeping up to her bicep. It also was void of feeling. Her ears went back; a whimper escaped her throat.

Natalie placed her water skin on her hip and grabbed the cub. The assassin began washing off her muzzle and head. Despite the aggression the cub had seen displayed by Natalie at certain times, her fingers moved gently over her fur—almost lovingly.

"You're going to be fine." Her voice was soft, reassuring, yet with a firm underlying. "People always assume the worst. That's what happens when myths and legends run rapid."

The cub looked up at the assassin. Natalie's attention now focused on cleaning the dirt and debris from her back. The assassin's green eyes were ringed with shadows, her face was drawn and dirty, her cheek bones prominent from lack of nutrition. The woman who had stood in the Malibu mansion all that time ago was nothing but a wraith now.

Why would someone go after Natalie? The cub couldn't believe that Tony was cruel enough to send the assassin to a form of hell. He was mad at her for intruding, but to do something like this? She couldn't see him doing that.

That begged the question though; how did Natalie end up here? And was it a coincidence that both of them were in the same place. The cub paused. Did she know Natalie like she swore she knew Tony?

"This is going to hurt."

The cub's ears perked up as she was drawn from her reverie. _Hurt?_

Her eyes moved to where Natalie was peeling off the scabs from her bite mark. Her ears dropped back. She felt nothing. However, the sharp inhale from Natalie made her stiffen.

As the scabs were removed, black goo oozed from the wound. The cub snorted; it reeked of decay and slightly of rotten eggs. She gagged simultaneously with Natalie.

"God, that's wretched."

The assassin's fingers began massaging the cub's arm from the shoulder blade to the beginning of the swelling. As the goo began to seep from her wound, she momentarily felt a flicker of pain. It made her question that if the goo was completely removed would she detect feeling in the limb again.

Natasha snorted. "This isn't any bite I've ever seen; not even in a zombie flick."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

His tail swished against the snow. He hadn't expected to ever gain his voice back, however, the beast before him had basically handed it to him. _Fool._

"Jac?"

The Hellhound glanced at the human—_his_ human—and gave a small shake his head. Jac was certain Stark Jr. was confused due to the gapping jaw and wide eyes he portrayed. The Hellhound turned to the beast he identified as a Praebolus. "Why does it matter to me if you lost the girl? I haven't seen her in years."

The Praebolus snorted; its low growl twisting words unknown to humans. "_He has seen her._"

"Is that a crime?"

"_He stole the girl from Conrad._"

"And you stole her from a normal life."

"_He can find her again._" The Praebolus took a step forward.

Jac straightened up. At all costs, he had to avoid a fight. There were too many of them to fight off and Stark Jr. was gauntlet-less. "I can assure you that is not likely to happen. Didn't someone on _your_ end, see to it that his house was blown off the cliff-side?"

The Praebolus shrugged. "_He still has the means to find her._"

"With what systems? He's been homeless. You know that. And you also know it's illegal to place a claw on him."

"_I did not imply I was going to harm him._"

Jac snorted. "_You_ poisoned him. I would bet his entire fortune, you would do it again."

"Jac?" Tony questioned.

"Hush, Stark." Jac watched as it took a few steps forward. "Declan will not approve of this."

The Praebolus paused. "_Your master is here?_"

Jac would love for it to define _here_, but he nodded nonetheless. "Are you willing to continue to a parlay with him?"

It hesitated, taking a step backward. "Where is he?"

"Close," Jac responded. "Would you like me to call him?"

The Praebolus rose onto its hind legs. Its sickly grey skin stretched taut over its muscle structure. Jac felt a hand of Tony's tug his fur.

"Jac?"

"Hush," the Hellhound hissed, watching the Praebolus intently. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the others remained still. It was odd they hadn't followed the forward movement of the leader.

"_He's not here to protect you._"

"Are you positive?"

The beast slowly scanned the park. Jac took this opportunity to push Tony back a few steps. _As long as he stays distracted…_

"Jac!" Tony hissed, as a rough tug of his fur followed.

The Hellhound narrowed his eyes as he turned to _his_ human, a growl in his throat. "Son of Stark, silen—" The words died in his throat as he glanced back to what Tony was trying to alert him to.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Time seemed to speed up as the colors of the world faded from view. When death knocked at the door, nothing mattered anymore.

"Don't you _dare_ do this to me."

If there was a choice, the dare would be removed.

"Don't you die. Don't even _think_ about dying on me."

The cub blinked once. Was there really need for the assassin to become repetitious?

"You think your life is over because you were bitten by whatever that was?"

Her eyes rolled up to look at Natalie.

"You don't even know that was a zombie."

It fit the part of one. A sigh left her lungs.

"Even if you think it's a zombie, people make up stories based on fears. How could you, being whatever you are, allow yourself to fall into that category?"

The cub turned her head. Her only thought was to live out her last minutes in peace.

"Turning your head is not going to make the situation go away, or make this any easier. It only makes things more difficult."

She looked up at the assassin; her patience thin. _Easy for you to say, you weren't bitten._

"You think that makes my situation easy? Let's say you do turn, how easy is it for me then?"

The cub rolled her eyes. _You'll still be alive._

"It's time you got over your pity party and got back to the living. You're getting annoying."

_You forgot so quick that the reason you're alive is the reason why I'm bitten?_

"Don't pull that martyr shit. I took on that beast from hell while you moped about on the roof. It would have killed both of us if I hadn't shot it."

_I'll die anyway. And guns are pointless._

"_Guns_ saved your ass from being eaten by that zombie thing."

The cub snorted. _Listen, assassin. The speculations humans have for what happens to zombie bite victims may be based on fact. I can't feel my arm. It's pretty much useless as of right now. I'm—_

"What are you going to say?" Natalie interrupted. "You're burning up? I can feel that. Here's the thing, wolf cub. It's you and me, and I can't get us to safety alone. I need your help and you need mine. This isn't about looking at your life and all the things you wished you could have done, or how you're going to die, because that's not going to help you."

_This is for your gain, assassin, not mine. You are the one who benefits._

"You're _not_ fucking dead. You're alive and right now is about survival. Not just for me, but for you. These moments you're thinking are your last; these are the moments that are going to save you or kill you. This isn't about watching what life you've had flash before your eyes. You're fucking fighting for your survival."

The cub mulled over Natalie's words. There had been many instances since she escaped that she had cowered and hoped to survive. She had been having a pity party. It was her fault Natalie was distracted, now. It could mean certain death for the assassin. The cub straightened up and moved her gaze to the path of trees behind Natalie. If the assassin was watching where they were going, she was going to watch the more important area.

"You can't keep looking back. It's not going to get you anywhere."

The cub shook her head slowly. _There was this movie I watched once, with a… a friend. In it, the character said he didn't need to watch where he was going, he just needed to know where he's been._

"And what do you mean by that?"

Her ears twitched. What _did_ she mean by that? She felt the gaping hole in her chest open as thoughts of Tony slipped in. It was an unsettling feeling, causing her to shudder and that didn't help their situation any. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. Her eyes closed as she made a vow. She was never going to allow herself to rely on anyone again.

A breath left her lungs as the hole froze over and turned to steel. She blinked, and changed the conversation. _Do you realize we're having a conversation?_

Natalie was silent for a moment. "I was afraid to say anything in case it stopped and this wasn't real."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony had been intrigued by the fact the Hellhound could talk. That was until a cold claw had run up his spine and the feeling like he was being watched crept in. He looked back over his shoulder. The two beasts had separated and moved towards the other three. The woods behind had seemed like a good option for escape until a shadow appeared.

The cloak which swished across the ground provided Tony with hope—until he saw what appeared to be a tail lash out from under the dark fabric. His heart dropped and he had tried desperately to gain Jac's attention, but the damn Hellhound was too busy shooting the breeze with the beast.

When Jac finally saw the cloaked creature, Tony swore his ebony fur paled.

"Shit…" the Hellhound muttered.

A laugh in the form of a growl echoed behind them.

"Maybe next time you'll listen to me." Tony watched as the figure halted ten feet from them. Its head cocked to the right in a manner similar to a bird—its face unable to be seen.

Jac glanced back at the creature, his voice weak. "You allowed a Quainferi onto Earth? Are you aberrant?"

Tony watched as the figure—_Quainferi?_—lowered onto its long two front arms, the sleeves of the cloak now dragging across the ground. His fingers dug into Jac's fur as he heard a low hiss come from the fabric.

"_She'll_ kill you when she finds out!" yipped the Hellhound. He moved, blocking Tony from the figure.

With sight blocked, both hands now dug into another part of Jac's fur. He cleared his throat. "Jac, what _is_ that?"

He heard Jac snarl. The Hellhound's silk fur slipped from his fingers as it lunged at the cloaked figure. Tony took a few hesitant steps backward as Jac rolled away with the fabric. A shudder ran through his bones. A creature to his left lunged at him.

His eyes slammed shut. His body stiffened for an attack that never came. He slowly opened an eye and saw a black spire protruding from the ground. The creature was pierced through, twitching as its muscles accepted the fact it was dead.

Tony stumbled backwards into something cold and saw another obsidian spire with a second creature on it. His eyes flicked towards Jac. The Hellhound was still busy with the figure. Where had the spires come from?

In the next second, he realized he needed to escape. As of right now he was a sitting duck. He _knew_ the creatures would follow him, but if he could get back to the tower, he could retrieve his gauntlet.

Tony turned towards the road and slammed into a black clawed hand. It wrapped around his torso, and he was lifted a few feet off the ground. It turned its head to the side and growled. A tremble shook through him.

The creature straightened its head and pulled back its lips in a gruesome smile. "Son of Stark, I know not you to be without converse."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"If we're not really talking, I seriously have a problem."

The cub shrugged. Didn't Natalie have bigger problems than thinking she might be talking to herself? They were lost in some woods after all. And the trees were shading the area making it appear as if something was following them.

"Am I really hearing you?"

The cub looked up at the assassin. _Apparently. I wonder though if this means I no longer have thoughts to myself._

"Unless your mind is running blank, I can't hear anything other than what you say."

_I suppose that's for the best._ She yawned and turned back to the growing shadows. Her eyes shook, causing her to blink. She definitely needed sleep. And some place warm. And a shower…

"Cub?"

She startled. Night had fallen and the shadows converged all around. When did she nod off? _Assassin?_

"Do you have a name?"

Her ears dropped back. _I did. Once._

"Once?"

_That was in the past._

"What was it?"

Her mind fought against the small swell of emotions. For most of her life, she had been nothing. She had been used and abused and named a project. Then he came in and she had been something to someone. No, not just some_thing_, she had been some_body_. She had never told him her real name, but had instead come to identified herself by what he called her. Now, he was gone.

She stomped the thoughts back under the steel prison she had formed for them. Her eyes blurred again, and she fought to focus on the shadows behind them.

_It doesn't matter._

"But you had a name."

_The facility named me Subject A-113._

"You've never been cared about before?"

_Once. But they're gone. And it doesn't matter who I was or who cared for me. I am... whatever I am, now. That's all that matters._

"What happened to the person who cared for you? Did they die?"

_Why ask that?_

"You're mourning."

_You lie._

"No, you are. It's like being without Clint. I had nightmares. In those dreams the zombies killed him. After that place, I don't know if he's dead or not."

_How does this relate to me?_

"You were in that place too. You don't know if the person who cared for you is alive or dead. That place had a way of fucking with your mind. Hours become days there, and days, weeks which lead into months. I don't know how long I was in there; I don't know what nightmares were real or forged. If I'm not sure what's real, how do you know what truly happened? Maybe they're alive."

The cub's gaze narrowed and her nose twitched as she focused on the shadows behind. _No, they are dead. Left to the fishes. You didn't watch the fucking house—_ She froze. Something moved in the shadows.

"Watch what house?"

_Something's following us._

"I know…" Natalie whispered after a moment. "It has been."

_How do you know?_

"He's been following me for a while now."

The cub shuddered._ What is it?_

"It's called the 'Corrector' in Russian tales. In American mythos… he's known as Slenderman."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

It was in the first few split seconds that Tony wished he hadn't left the gauntlet lying on the cold cement floor in the tower. With the most recent events, he knew he never wanted to be without his armor again.

Tony pushed against the thumb clutching his chest. "I really haven't had much time to talk, or converse. I wasn't sure what you were saying in your speech. I know a few languages, but that snarling demon thing isn't one of them. And the Hellhound seemed to be doing a fantastic job of translating my thoughts, anyhow."

"You… mortal…" The creature looked up for a moment—its beady, black eyes starring at the starless night—as if trying to figure out a word or phrase. "I search long for you."

"Not what _I_ just heard. I was sick for an extra long time because of you."

"Not believe all you hear, Stark."

"You may want to take lessons in English. It may help you out later on in life."

The beast's grip tightened. "You bold joke with death close."

Tony squirmed. This hostage situation reminded him of his time so long ago in the garage as his house was getting ready to crumble down the hill. "You work for Conrad?"

The beast snorted. "He only seek revenge. He work… for them."

"Who are them?"

"Enough! Give location on girl. I release then."

"I haven't seen her. Conrad took her. You know this."

"She no long there. You… She go to you."

Tony's eyes widened. "Keevs escaped?"

The beast's face contorted into a snarl; its jagged teeth bared. "WHERE SHE?!"

"Where is she? I don't know. But she escaped?"

The claws around his chest tightened, leaving him unable to get air into his lungs. The beast roared in his face.

"Put him down, Praebolus!"

Tony felt the claws tighten even more so in response. He struggled to breathe and look behind. Jac stood next to the cloaked figure. Tony cringed. The whole thing was a set up. The Hellhound had led him here to kill him.

As a whistle sang in his ears, he managed to hear the beast growl in response. His vision turned white and fuzzy around the edges as black spots floated across. In the haze, he saw the figure pull back its hood. Through his dimming vision, he couldn't tell who it was.

In the next instant, he found himself flung through the air. He hit the ground with a thud and rolled to the feet of Jac and the figure. He coughed as his lungs expanded and he looked up to see Cloak looking down at him.

"I'm always saving your ass, aren't I?" Cloak extended a hand.

Tony grabbed it and was hauled into a standing position. He grabbed his throbbing head and stumbled to his left. Jac helped steady him as Cloak moved past.

"Yeah," Tony whispered as his fingers gripped the black fur. He leaned heavily against the Hellhound; his breath came out in slow exhales. "You are always saving me. Thanks, Declan."


	31. Let Go

**Hello to all my lovely viewers. You all are AWESOME! Hope you're having a wonderful week!  
**

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* * *

_I knew a man who once said,  
_"_death smiles at us all;  
all a man can do is smile back."  
_—_Gladiator_

_Corrector?_ _I haven't heard that one._

"Have you heard of Slenderman?" Natalie whispered, casting a glance back.

She had a vague feeling she might have come across something on it at one time, but nothing really stood out. _I do not know much._

The assassin seemed to hesitate for a moment as if thinking something through. "He's this faceless being that stalks in the forests at night."

The cub's eyes searched the dark woods. The shadow had disappeared. _The one that leaves the notes?_

"That's the one. He's been following me for a long time. The bastard caught me, and I ended up in that damn hell hole." Natalie straightened up. "Wait, what was that place?"

_It was a research facility. They tested on people, creatures, and the like._

"There were more creatures other than zombies, the grey beast, and you?"

_The grey beast was called a Necrotaur. _She looked up at Natalie._ There was a vampire. And obviously your Slenderman. There were shape-shifters. Also, don't forget that person with the mask._

"Anything else I should be alert to?"

The cub scrunched her nose. _Me?_

"Are you dangerous?"

She shrugged. _I don't know. I'm still trying to figure that out._

The conversation lapsed and the cub placed her head against Natalie's shoulder. Again, she felt sleepy as her eyes drooped. Her ears fell back against her head as warmth spread through her bones. She couldn't feel her left arm—but that had lost precedence long ago. She glanced down and her brow rose. Why did she have black spots appearing on her grey fur?

Her muzzle dropped towards a few and she tried to lick them off. She didn't expect to find her fur was actually turning black. The more she continued to stare, the odder the situation became. The spots on her fur seemed to form into splotches and spread. Her eyes then blurred.

"Are you still watching behind me?"

The cub shook her head, attempting to correct her vision. _No?_

The assassin shuddered, her voice tense. "You stopped looking?"

_What does it matter?_

"Oh God…"

As her vision corrected itself, her eyes moved from the splotches on her fur to behind Natalie. Next to a tree ten feet from them stood a figure in a black suit with no face. Four limbs like octopus arms seemed to come from the back of the man.

_Assassin? Does the man have—_

"Octopus arms?" She had halted and looked behind. "Yeah, that's him."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

It was a good thing that Stark Jr. remembered Declan's name, right?

"You know the rules."

Jac looked over as Declan spoke to the Praebolus. The rules for meddling with mortals were strict—to the point of death.

"It was you that got him sick?"

The Praebolus shifted and glanced around. "_I never meant any offense._"

"Any offense?" asked Declan. "You tried to _kill_ the boy."

Jac felt Stark Jr.'s head emerge from his fur.

"Boy?" questioned Tony. Jac felt Tony tug his fur. "What's that thing saying?"

The Praebolus shook its head. "_That was not… I mean, I did not intend to kill him._"

"When you demonically poison a mortal, in _any_ way, you know the consequences. It means certain death," Declan said.

"_Ah, well, he is not dead. He is… very much alive._"

"Because of me," Declan responded. "I am the one who helped Jacamo with the antidote."

"_Should you be meddling with the affairs of mortals?_"

Jac growled. "I'd watch your mouth, Praebolus. You have no sanctuary here."

Declan turned to Jac. "This is not your fight, now silence."

He gave a stiff nod in response.

"Jac," Tony said softly, and the Hellhound looked over. "What's going on?"

Jac glanced toward Declan, then back to Tony. "The Praebolus wants you."

"That thing?"

He nodded.

"I suppose I got that vibe. This is all because he thinks I know where Keeva is?"

Jac tilted his head back and forth. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she was still lurking around one of their safe houses."

"I don't…" Tony shook his head. "Then why are they hunting me?"

He looked back to Declan.

"Can you answer just that _one_ question?"

Jac scrunched his face and shook his head. It wasn't that he didn't want to answer the question. It was the fact he was sworn from giving answers. He hated doing it to the son of Stark, but there were certain rules that had to be obeyed.

He focused on the scene before him. Declan gave a slight nod of his head and spires rose from the ground, killing the remaining Praebolus. Why his master hadn't done that sooner, he didn't know. Perhaps he hoped to glean information from the beast. That was a hopeless bet.

Jac heard the sound of a soft breeze and a slight crunch of snow. He turned to see a woman in a navy blue cloak behind them. His lip curled slightly.

"Why did you kill my pets, Declan?"

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The cub felt the fur on her back rise. A ghostly howl sounded in the distance. Moments ticked by as Natalie stood frozen. The firm race of the assassin's heart was felt through her chest. One black tentacle slithered forward.

_RUN!_

Natalie startled. Her feet then took off sprinting through into the thickets. The cub watched as the '_Corrector_' disappeared into the forest.

As the assassin dodged trees and bushes, the cub picked up a scent on the wind. It was a strong salty smell. The ocean had to be near.

"Up ahead!" Natalie panted.

The cub looked forward, trying to get a glimpse through the underbrush.

The assassin gasped. "There's water!"

_The ocean._ Her eyes blurred again and she looked back. A snarl-yelp escaped her throat as the 'Corrector' appeared behind them. In the next instant, she crashed to the ground, rolled out of the assassin's arms and across sand.

She took a deep breath as Natalie let out a cry. Standing to her feet—_paws?_—she sprinted towards the tentacle. With a well aimed slash of claws, the tentacle released its grip.

The cub darted in the other direction as Natalie leapt to her feet and followed.

Trying to run on three legs was similar to running with crutches. When you tried to stop suddenly or you ran to fast, you took a head first dive into the ground.

Sand filled the cub's mouth as she struggled to right herself. Natalie raced past.

"There's a boat!"

So close to freedom.

Another howl echoed through the woods.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony's brow rose as a woman approached them. She was dressed in navy blue; her hood drawn up covering all but her glinting eyes. He knew her from somewhere. That shade of navy blue…

"Finally crawl out of your hole, Amora?" Cloak questioned.

_Amora? No, that's not…_ Tony stiffened. She was the woman from the doctor's office. He vaguely remembered the way she had watched Keeva like a hawk all those months ago.

Jac growled as the woman took a few steps closer.

"Funny, Declan. Now, why do you have my little Tony?"

"Because she's keeping everyone else," mutter Jac, the fur on his back rising.

The woman walked over to Tony. She traced a finger across the collar of his shirt. "Cloak keeping you quiet, my pet?"

"Stay away from him, Amora," Cloak warned.

Her voice was familiar. He couldn't quite place it, though—like he couldn't place her name. She hadn't gone by Amora. He cleared his throat. "I know I'm not your pet. You're not appealing enough."

She smiled softly. "Is your little Keeva?"

Tony watched as she snapped her fingers. Four more creatures—the Praebolus—appeared behind them. Both Jac and Cloak shifted and faced them. The Hellhound produced a warning growl.

Tony glanced toward Cloak. For an instant he felt helpless, and found himself wishing Declan would save him from this as well. However, if he could distract the woman long enough, perhaps he could save Cloak and Jac. _I really need to look into the Extremis idea again…_

He looked back at the woman, and shrugged. "Is she supposed to be?"

"Does she compete with that little ginger mortal you were to marry?"

"I wouldn't want her to."

"You claim that now." She ran her fingers down his cheek as he heard the snarls of a fight behind him. "Do you think she feels the same? Should we ask her?"

Tony stiffened and his hands clenched as he realized she had everything to do with Keeva's disappearance. "You took her. You're involved."

"Figure that out by yourself, Stark?"

"Where's Keeva?"

"Learning that resistance is futile."

Tony's eyes widened. "You... you're that bitch in the video."

She smiled in response.

Tony lunged at her. "What'd you do to her?!"

She held up a hand. He found himself surrounded by light green mist, unable to move. "Oh, dear Tony. If only you knew."

"You're not allowed to say a word, filthy bitch." Jac snarled as he pinned one of the Praebolus to the ground. His red eyes narrowed on Amora. "If we can't tell him the truth, then neither can you!"

"Silence mutt! I'm surprised Declan places so much trust in you. Especially after you defied him. Weren't your instructions not to leave the tower?"

"Weren't your instructions to leave the boy alone? What will _your_ master say?" growled Cloak. Tony watched as Cloak gave a nod and a spire rose from the ground, piercing one of the Praebolus. "Now let him go, Amora."

She smiled. "You touched first."

Tony's brow furrowed. What did that mean?

In the next instant, two of the Praebolus had Cloak by the arms and dragged him over.

"I did no such thing," he countered.

"_You_ touched first. With Pepper's death," snapped Jac, and he severed the Praebolus throat. He then turned to Amora. "I know exact dates and times if you want. And a list of all the others you murdered to cover it. Want 'em?"

She looked at her nails. "You mean the death dear sweet Keeva caused? She's the trouble behind this all."

"You're the one that always made up shit, aren't you? You're not called Amora though. You have another name," Tony responded. If he could get the attention back on himself, perhaps Jac could free Cloak. "Where's your lackey with the axe?"

Amora stiffened momentarily. "How do you—"

"Remember that?" interrupted Cloak. "You're pumping him with enough information that it's jogging his memory. Your spells don't work _that_ well. You're not _that_ gifted in magic."

"We all can't be _you_, Declan. Perhaps little Keeva should have realized this."

"What did you do to her?"

She chuckled and looked at Cloak—a smirk etched into her lips. "Oh, I gave that little trollop what she had coming. I made sure her 'gifts' ceased to be. I made sure she has the feeling of guilt consuming her for things she cannot remember. And for the apparent death of Tony Stark, so she thinks. But that is of no consequence, at this moment. It is little Tony I'm after, now." She looked at Tony. "How _did_ you survive after your reactor was removed?"

Tony paused. One brow lifted as his lips pursed in thought. How _was_ he alive?

"Where did you _get_ that new one?"

"Does it matter at this point, Amora?" questioned Cloak.

"Oh, it matters very much." She walked to Cloak. "It means that _one_ of you meddled in the affairs of extending mortal life. And according to _your_ rule, Declan, I can touch him now."

"I don't like being touched by strange, magical women," Tony commented.

"Is that so?" She walked back towards him.

"You're only after him because you lost Keeva," challenged Jac.

Her head snapped toward the Hellhound. "Watch your mouth, mongrel."

"Make me."

"Tell your master where Marko went."

Jac stiffened, his tail tucked between his legs.

"Did you not have a chance to tell your master you lost your dear war buddy?"

Tony watched as Jac took a few steps back. Amora slightly moved her left hand and he felt himself drift back a few feet. Jac's ears dropped. Tony's brow furrowed. _Marko… Marko?_

Cloak looked at Jac. "Whe… Jac, where'd Marko go?"

Jac hesitated; a small whimper escaped his throat.

"Jacamo?"

Tony pursed his lips in thought.

"_Like Polo?"_

"_I'm not one of your mortal explorers."_

_He laughed at the large grey beast—three rows of spikes running down its back. "Lighten up. Are all your kind this serious?"_

_A small grin crossed the creature's face. "When dealing with you, son of Stark."_

Tony straightened up. "The Necrotaur. You're talking about the Necrotaur."

"They… I… Marko..." Jacamo's ears flattened against his head. "He… was killed."

"Dead…?" Cloak stiffened. He then turned to Amora. "You killed him?"

Amora laughed. "Not I. I had nothing to do with Subject NT-818's death. It was that assassin."

"Assassin?" Tony startled. "Natalie? You have Romanoff?"

"You killed Marko!" Declan attempted to lunged forward. The Praebolus held him tight. "You killed him!"

A wicked grin crossed her face. "You're about to lose another."

Tony felt movement return to his limbs as he collapsed to the ground. As a chill ran up his spine, he turned to see the creature—Jac had called it a Quainferi—with the tail emerge from the shadows, eyes on him.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Hauling herself to her feet—_paws?_—she swayed to the left and fell into the sand again. She felt a snake wrap around her back paw, and she began to slide back towards the trees. Looking behind, she saw the black tentacle dragging her toward the 'Corrector.'

Her claws expelled from her paws and she tried hopelessly to grip the sand. After everything, this was to be the end of the line. Who knew what this new captor might do?

Her eyes rose toward Natalie. The assassin held her gun up. The cub's ears perked up.

_Please. _She could hear herself begging as if she was speaking out loud._ Please, shoot me._

A slight frown appeared on Natalie's lips and her eyes softened momentarily, and her head inclined slightly downwards. The cub hoped the desperation shown in her eyes. She had gotten the assassin to safety; it was okay that she didn't live, right? All that matter was the assassin would.

Natalie aimed. The cub let out a soft sigh as she closed her eyes. With her breath in her ears, the world slowly faded around her. The gunfire sounded louder than thunder.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony felt as if time had stopped. When the Quainferi jumped on him, the first thing he realized was that it was much stronger than he imagined. The second thing was its luminescent yellow eyes with pupils slit like a snake. He really shouldn't have been surprised it was snake-like. He could feel the scales of it under his touch.

The Quainferi straddled him and wrapped its tail tightly around his legs. It pinned both his arms to the ground before he could think. Tony realized then he had never been a match for it.

The grin that crossed its human-lizard face sent chills through his spine. It lowered its face and its lips reached his ear. Warm breath tickled his skin.

"Death to son of Stark."

Tony struggled against the Quainferi as it the nuzzled his neck. For all the thrashing his limbs should have been doing, he was terrified when he realized he couldn't move.

Then, as quickly as the Quainferi had tackled him, it was knocked off by a dark object. A snarl pierced through the air.

Tony lay shivering, staring at the pitch black sky, unable to move. For a moment, he assumed Harry Potter felt that type of paralysis when faced with a Dementor—minus the screaming in his mind. His ears caught the sounds of growls and a clash of claws. A screech echoed through the park, chilling the bone. Then, all went silent. He heard Amora growl in anger shortly after and she stormed by him; her navy blue cloak, parting to reveal a green dress underneath. He moved his head to watch her.

She approached and kicked the body of the human-lizard.

"Damn thing. I told him not to do that."

_What?_

Amora turned back, her brows lowered into a glare. She hissed. "As per your commands, Lord Declan, I will leave the boy alone. That is, until you misstep again. Then I promise you, the boy will be mine."

In a swirl of green mist, she disappeared.

Tony's muscles shook as he rose into a sitting position. He looked up as Cloak knelt next to him. The man's hands ran across his ear, neck, and the limbs the creature had touched—like a father inspecting a child for wounds after a nasty fall.

"Did its claws or teeth cut you?"

Tony shook his head.

"You just feel disorientated?"

He nodded. He was suddenly aware that Jac wasn't around. His eyes searched for the Hellhound that had once again saved his life. His mouth opened slightly as he saw the smaller version of the Hellhound lying five feet from him.

"Jac?"

He watched as the Hellhound struggled to move. Even with the lack of light, Tony could see the gashes that lined Jac's body and the large slash near his throat. Its grey eyes met his as a gurgled whimper escaped his throat.

"What happened?"

Cloak rose and lifted Tony to his feet. He then approached Jac, kneeling next to him.

"You're a fool, Jacamo."

Tony watched as Cloak gently pulled the Hellhound into his arms, and he rose.

The Hellhound coughed, his voice soft and labored. "But… Tony's safe, right?"

Cloak moved passed Tony. "Let's go, Stark Jr. We need to get you warmed up and properly fed."

Tony watched as the massacre around the park suddenly lit into dark blue flames. After a few moments, the fire died. The park was once again in its original state, no sign of the demon creatures left.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

In the tower, Tony fared no better. He was wrapped in a blanket, but he left his soup untouched. Like a child, he had followed Cloak into another room.

Cloak sat next to Jac's shivering body. His fingers ran through the obsidian fur. Tony sat across from him, watching them.

"I… I'm sorry, boss."

Cloak shook his head. Tony saw a mist form over his eyes. "You did well, Jacamo."

"I cou…ldn't save Marko. I couldn't save…"

"Marko's death wasn't your fault." He gently ran a hand over Jac's head. "None of this was your fault."

The Hellhound's body relaxed. "But I-I saved Tony… right?"

Cloak nodded, and swallowed before replying. "You did. You saved him. Amora can no longer touch him."

Jac smiled slightly. "Don't… don't cry, boss. If things… turn out different—"

"Rest now, Jac. It's okay."

His tail wagged once. A hoarse cough left his lips. "There's hope… Tony's… he's saved. And… Sh-she's not dead y…yet…"

Declan ran a hand gently over his head again and again. "Shh…"

The Hellhound moved slightly and looked at Tony. "You gotta let her… come to you. She'll find you…"

Tony raised a brow. "Wha—"

"She's not… helpless. She needed… to be let go. She needed to grow… and so did… you. Neither of you were willing… to let go… but it's what you needed to be you. She'll find you. It'll be unexpected… but she… she'll come."

Jac looked back at Cloak and smiled softly. He rested as he allowed himself to be treated like a dog. He seemed to soak in every moment as Cloak spoke softly to him, and softly stroked his fur.

"You're always loyal, Jac. Always loyal. You're such a good boy." Cloak's lip quivered and he swallowed again. "You're one of my best. You did… did a good job. I'm proud of you. Good job. Good… boy."

Tony heard the last _boy_ crack as Cloak closed his mouth. He gripped the blanket tighter, and swallowed roughly. This was his fault. If he had been prepared, or wiser, or even had Extremis, Jac wouldn't be lying like this in the tower, on his— Tony shut his eyes momentarily. They would all be safe right now. He looked at the Hellhound again.

A few minutes passed before Jac spoke again. His eyes flickered shut. "Don't miss me… boss."

Tony watched as the Hellhound's chest took longer and longer to expand. As the final exhale left his body, Jac's muscles went limp. Like watching a fire die out, his fur turned from black into white-ash grey. Cloak lowered his head, never removing his eyes from the Hellhound. He attempted to blink away tears; a slight tremor ran through his body. His fingers sifted through the fur.

"Good job, Jac. Good job, boy. You're—You're my good boy."


	32. I Must Not Fear

_I must not fear.  
Fear is the mind-killer.  
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.  
I will face my fear.  
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.  
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.  
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.  
Only I will remain.  
~Frank Herbert**  
**_

_Dip, pull. Dip, pull. Dip, pull._

The mantra sounded over and over again in her head. She pumped the oars, moving the tiny boat through the water. She wasn't sure where she was going, but as the land receded into the fog, the horror kept its icy fingers on her soul.

In any other circumstances, she would have been able to deal with the effects and trauma. However, her closest confidant was not with her. She felt alone. She felt afraid. She felt weak.

The truth was she missed Clint.

He always had her back. He always made her feel safe. She probably relied on him too often now. She couldn't help it though. She glanced back at the last wisps of the land of horror. He would have helped her through. He would have protected her and the wolf cub. Her stomach twisted.

_The cub…_

She glanced down. In her lap sat the grey cub—well, partly grey. Its entire left arm was black. At some point dots had appeared on its fur. They had grown into splotches—some much larger than others. Its body temperature was warm enough to make her sweat as she rowed across the icy water. Its breath was sporadic at best.

Natasha shut her eyes and rowed faster. The sooner they got to land, the sooner she could contact S.H.I.E.L.D. Had they been looking for her? Did Fury even care? Was Clint worried?

A tear slipped down her cheek. Would she ever feel safe again?

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The memory of the dark blue fire haunted his every moment. Whether he was awake or asleep, the vision was always there in his mind's eye.

_The last breath of the Hellhound was heard. Silence followed. Tony wasn't sure how long had passed before Cloak forced himself to his feet. He then proceeded to pull him away from the body—he must have been in a state of shock. Once several feet away, Cloak hesitated and then snapped his fingers. The dark blue flame devoured the body, leaving nothing in return._

Would the repetitive memories ever stop?

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

_Her eyes blurred as the 'Corrector' pulled the cub backward. Claws slid through sand like knife through melting butter__—_the cub's face twisted in horror and desperation as it begged to be shot.

_Natasha aimed, her sight set on the man with no face. The cub shut its eyes. Her finger pulled the trigger. The head of the 'Corrector' snapped back upon impact with the bullet. It tumbled into the brush and disappeared in a wisp of smoke. The cub didn't move—_couldn't move?

_A howl sounded in the near surroundings. She dashed forward, and plucked the cub from the sand; its body limp in her arms. Natasha turned and bolted for the boat. She stumbled into the water and the cub tumbled from her arms into the small wooden vessel._

_Another howl sounded, and she turned. A dead greyhound had made it onto the beach. It snarled as its legs leapt the distance toward her._

_With a tremor running through her bones, she shoved the boat into the icy water and hopped in, narrowly avoiding the dead dog._

The boat kissed the gravel of shore. She kept rowing. A soft sob left her lips. The grinding sound of rocks tearing into soft wood reached her ears. She kept rowing…

At some point she finally realized the boat had stopped moving, and reached the shore. Her shaky hands dropped the oars. Standing up—cub grasped in her arms—she gazed about her surroundings. Behind her was a small fishing village, still in the clutches of sleep—or most of them were sleeping.

Three men, dressed in thick black parkas and yellow and black overalls—_bibs?_—stared at her.

Her legs shook momentarily before she forced herself out of the boat. She stumbled up the gravel beach and towards the men. The thought never crossed her mind what she would do if they were dangerous. She only feared they wouldn't be able to understand her.

"_Who are you?_" asked one.

"_Where did you come from?_" questioned a second.

She said a silent prayer in thanks to God for she understood them. She knew the language, but was unable to place it.

She reached where they stood. "_I need a phone._"

"_Why are you here?_" asked the third.

Natasha shook her head. Of course they would want information about her. "_My name is Natalie. I've just come from some place… out there. I am in dire need of a phone._"

"_From the island?_"

"_Island?_" Her brow rose.

The first man to speak stepped forward. "_We've had strange travelers row up on our shore with tales of a hellish place where they were experimented on. All but four have died due to bites they've received._"

"_The others?_"

"_Were not bitten. Only one recovered enough to speak, but she passed three years prior._"

"_Only one…_" Natasha nodded, and glanced at the cub in her arms. It shuddered—or maybe that was the tremor still running through her. "_May I use your phone?_"

He studied her intently before nodding. "_Follow me. I will lead you._"

* * *

_Seven…_

_Eight rings…_

Natasha clutched the phone in one hand and the cub in her other arm. She listened to the ring of the phone as her body trembled. Her mind chanted a single mantra: _Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up._

"Who the hell is this?"

"Fury?" She sounded like a child looking for their parent to comfort them.

"Romanoff? Is that you?"

"Yeah..." She relaxed; a soft sigh left her mouth, and she put her head against the cool wall of the wooden house. "Yes, Director. It's me."

"Where the hell have you been?"

"I... I'm not sure. I think I was taken hostage."

"By who?"

"I… have no idea. Do you have my coordinates now?"

"We're tracking your signal now."

"Come get me." Her voice was soft. She almost added a please, but stopped.

"Are you okay, Romanoff?"

She held the cub and the phone tighter. "I'll be fine, sir. Just come get me."

* * *

The man who showed up at the door half a day later was someone she hadn't remembered seeing at S.H.I.E.L.D before. However, his soft green eyes and sandy colored hair gave her a feeling of comfort.

"Hello, Agent Romanoff. I'm here to take you home."

"And you are?"

"Aidan." He held out his hand. She clutched the cub tighter. "I work the recover, rescue department."

She swore she might have known him. His voice was lulling, like a lifelong friend. Natasha watched as his eyes glanced toward the cub in her arms. She stiffened.

"How do I know you're not one of… of _them_? I've seen a lot lately, and I wouldn't be surprised if whatever's after _us_, trailed us here."

Aidan nodded. "I understand. Many have been attacked and killed due to that place."

"You know about it?"

He gave another nod. "Yes."

"Tell me."

"Gladly. However, the walls have ears here and some things are better left unknown." He placed a hand on the cub. She watched his eyes soften as he looked at it. "Some things are better left secret."

Natasha took a breath and nodded. "Don't double cross me."

"I never have, Natasha."

* * *

Once aboard the Quinjet, she settled into a seat—cub clutched in arms. As the vessel lifted, Aidan brought over two metal buckets—one filled with water—and a medical kit. Natasha eyed him closely.

"That's a demon wound." Aidan settled on her left side.

"Not a zombie?"

"You can consider them the same thing in this case."

She held the cub closer. "You expect me to believe in demons?"

"You've met Baba Yaga and Ded Moroz, have you not?"

She gasped slightly, and leaned back. Ded Moroz was what Americans considered Santa Claus. No one knew about those odd meetings she had as a child, not even Clint. "How do you—"

He shook his head. "I know plenty of things, Natasha. None of which will I use to hurt you."

She shifted slightly in her seat and looked down at the cub. "Is she going to die?"

"Soon, if it's left untreated."

Natasha leaned away from him. Her brow furrowed. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"At the moment, I'm all you've got."

She hesitated, her fingers intertwined in the cub's darkening fur. She looked up at him. "If you kill her, I _will_ make you suffer in ways you've never imagined."

"I know you will." He turned toward the medical kit, and flicked open the latches. After opening it, he pulled out a scalpel. "I need you to hold her. I just need the left foreleg."

Natasha moved the cub and held the leg out. "Will she feel this?"

"At this moment," he said with a glance toward her, "she's closer to death then she is to the living. Her body feels nothing."

Her brow rose. "Is she turning?"

Aidan didn't immediately answer as he cut into the cub's flesh. Slowly and gently he worked the scalpel around the exterior of the bite. He then cut the scab off revealing a mess of thick black goo and dark clotting blood. In seconds, the interior of the ship reeked of death and sulfur.

Natasha gagged. "What the—"

"It's a demon bite." With slightly squinted eyes, he cleaned the immediate wound, and then began to coax the goo out into the empty pail. "The toxin spreads through the veins, clogging them as it reaches the heart. Once it reaches the heart, it stops the pumping and then it can invade the brain—a bit odd, I know. It has the capability of moving through the veins on its own. When it reaches the brain, that is when the possession occurs, and there is _no_ coming back from that. The person no longer has control over anything, and they become what you refer to as a zombie."

"How long does this process take?"

He poured water over the wound to cleanse it. "It depends on the bite and the victim."

She nodded and swallowed roughly. Her mind toyed with the idea, if the cub couldn't be saved, it was her fault for not getting off that island quick enough. "Is she a lost cause?"

"Not quite. She's not well, but she's not past saving." Aidan looked up at her. "You got her to safety in enough time. And you must have said something to her to keep her alive this long. This bite isn't recent."

"No, it's been over a day."

"It's not unheard of," he said, returning to the cleansing of the wound, "but it's rare that beings live that long without something to fight for."

Natasha turned away, suddenly interested in studying the metal interior of the Quinjet. She could feel the cracks in her sanity widening and a shaky breath left her lungs. If she didn't get her act together who knew what mental issue she would have next.

Turning back to the cub, she pointed to a piece of blackening fur. "These black patches she's developing..."

"Those are the mark of the poison. With certain creatures it shows on their skin."

Natasha sat up a little and her brows rose. "She's not just a wolf cub, then."

Aidan shook his head. "No, she's not."

* * *

Hours passed as Aidan slowly worked on the wound. Natasha's eyes remained wide as the black substance was pulled from the wound.

The goo which came from the injury was thick and stringy, allowing Aidan to slowly and gently pull it from the veins of the cub. If he pulled to fast however, the goo would snap and he would have to coax another piece out.

Slowly, the black patches retreated from her fur, and the thick dark-red blood began to flow smoother, changing into a brighter red.

At some point she had drifted off, and was awoken by Aidan when they reached the Helicarrier. She rubbed her eyes, thankful to have made it back alive. Her bones cracked as she stood. She adjusted the cub's position in her arms, taking a glance at the wound. It was crusted over again in a black scab. She wondered if that meant it was healed.

Natasha followed Aidan out of the Quinjet and stopped. She gazed about the deck of the large craft—she was on the lower flight deck. A few smaller jets were being assessed in normal maintenance checks. A group of soldiers jogged past. She heard the whir of an engine start as a smaller jet took off from the upper flight deck. She wished she could feel good about being in familiar territory.

The breeze from the ocean immediately reached her nose and caressed her face. At one point in her life it had been an old friend. Now, however, she stiffened as it touched her—who knew what horrors it held in store for her. A slight rock from the waves unsteadied her momentarily—another thing with intentions of possibly killing her. She saw a few crew members shoot concerned looks her way. Were they planning to drag her into a torture chamber?

She straightened up, clutched the cub closer, and continued to the interior of the Helicarrier. Aidan led her through several hallways and past the main bridge. He seemed adamant on shying away from Director Fury. _Why?_

Aidan finally stopped at a room, and opened the door. He held it open for Natasha. She walked in, her eyes catching the standard issued cot bed, mirror, desk and chair, and door to the small bathroom. She allowed herself to sink into the cot and placed the cub next to her. She yawned. If Aidan hadn't been in there she would have passed out.

Natasha looked up at him. "Why have we not gone directly to Fury?"

"There are things that must be done first."

Her attention from the Fury question was directed toward the fact that Aidan was removing the black scab from the cub's arm. A brow rose. "There's more to that process?"

"This is the last bit." He showed the red colored wound to her. "See how it's no longer a goo substance? That charcoal colored scab I removed was the last bit of poison."

Natasha tilted her head slightly to the right. "Is she going to be alright?"

Aidan nodded. "She'll be fine. She'll need plenty of rest though. I expect her to be out a while."

"So she's not alright."

He looked at Natasha, his eyes caught and held hers. "She will be. Rest and time will give her that. However, I must ask a favor of you."

She stiffened slightly. "What would that be?"

"Director Fury cannot know everything that happened on the island. He cannot know about her as a cub."

"That would be—" Her mouth hung open. Would it be that bad if she lied to Fury? It wouldn't be the first time. "How are you going to keep her a secret?"

"I would move if I were you."

Natasha rose and moved to the chair; a puzzled look etched in the tired lines of her face. Her eyes widened as Aidan's hand shimmered slightly and he touched the head of the cub. In a soft swirl of what appeared to be sparkles, the cub turned into a human.

Natasha's mouth opened in a silent gasp. The girl was thinner than she was. Every bone of her body showed through ashen skin. A now-grey, torn and tattered doctor's coat covered the female's torso and part of her thighs. "What the—"

Aidan moved to the desk, opened a door, and pulled out a roll of gauze. "You need to hide this from Fury. He isn't to know." He moved back to the girl and began wrapping the wound on her arm.

"But—"

"He can't know."

She continued to stare at the skeletal body, leaving Aidan's statement unanswered. Something about the girl seemed familiar. Had she seen her before? After a few minutes, Natasha finally nodded. "Fine."

Aidan looked over the girl, and shook his head. "Her hair needs to go."

Natasha's attention turned to the long, oily-black hair. "Why?"

"It's residue from the bite. This is infected by the demon."

"Will she be okay?"

Aidan nodded. "If left untreated it can seep back into her system. However, once gone, she'll recover just fine." He looked to her. She noticed a sadness in his eyes, amplified by the slight frown on his lips. "You may retire to your room. I know you are craving a hot shower and sleep."

Natasha hesitated, shifting her weight onto her right leg. A shower and sleep did sound good. "Thank you… for coming to get me."

He smiled at her. "Any time, Natasha."

She gave a stiff nod and exited the room, leaving Aidan alone with the cub—now human.

* * *

The ends of her hair had to go. They were split. In fact, most of her hair was knotted and stuck up at all angles. Armed with scissors, the crimson hair fell from her head and into the trash. She wasn't content until it reached just above her shoulders.

After placing the scissors on the sink, she proceeded to step into the shower. The steamy water rained down from above, and began clawing at the dirt and grime which covered her body. Her hands moved over her skin helping the water to rid her of the blood, gore, and whatever else had attached itself to her in that place. It was then that the tears fought to burst.

Natasha cleared her throat and pushed past any emotions. She couldn't afford to break down. Besides after a good night's sleep she would feel just fine. She focused on working to clean herself off so she could feel fresh again.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed in the shower, but she was certain she probably used up most of the water. The handle spun beneath her fingers and the water ceased. Her hand trembled. Ceased to be just like the '_Corrector_'. She shook her head, and reached for a towel. Thinking of him would do nothing to help her fragile state. She dried herself off and dressed in grey sweats. She brushed her hair. On more than one occasion she had to tell herself that these things were normal. This was how everyone lived.

Natasha's hand trembled as her fingers gripped the door handle. Would something be waiting for her on the other side? She had no gun to protect herself. Taking a breath, she turned the handle.

Steam slipped past her into the chilly room. As her eyes reached her bed, a tremor ran through her body. Through the mist of steam she saw a familiar pair of eyes waiting for her. The concern etched across every line of his face only added to her fear. _Not another dream…_

"Did you have fun?" he questioned.

She reached for the scissors. "Who are you?"

"You're kidding, right?"

The make-shift weapon, grasped in her shaky grasp, stood as a last resort for protection. "I'm not in the mood for jokes."

"Tash, I—"

"No one calls me Tash," she growled. "Who the hell are you?"

He rose from where he was seated on the bed and walked toward her. "Natasha, it's me."

"No! The one you claim to be is dead. I saw him die!" She lunged through the steam, scissors prepared to sever an artery.

In seconds, the weapon was out of her hands and she was locked in an embrace. The scent of his shirt was familiar. The feeling of the arms which wrapped around her could not be mimicked by anyone. But she swore she had _watched_ him die.

"God, Natasha, what happened to you?"

It was then that the tears broke past her defenses. A sob was muffled by his shirt. "Clint…"

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony had avoided Cloak for several days afterward. He feared to be anywhere near him—after all he was the reason the Hellhound was dead. By the end of the first week however, the guilt was close to swallowing him alive. It was slowly squeezing him to death, like a boa constrictor—it already had three quarters of him choked down.

He found Cloak near the large window overlooking the park and a good majority of Manhattan. The distant look in the man's eyes allowed the boa to consume another inch. Tony hesitated before walking up to him.

"Declan, I—"

Cloak held up a hand, stopping him. He continued to gaze out the window. "It's fine, Tony."

"But Jac's—"

"Don't worry about it."

_Don't worry about it? _"It's because of me, he's dead."

"It's because of this game."

Tony shook his head. "He died for me. Why did you let him?"

"It's none of your concern."

"Not my concern? _Declan,_ this entire thing is my concern. They wanted me. They planned to kill me and Jac took the bullet."

Cloak shook his head. "I should have been paying attention. I should have been watching. It's my fault."

"How is it your fault?" Tony shifted and looked at Cloak. "They're after me. It's not Keeva they were after. In fact, they were never hunting her."

"Then you misheard," Cloak said, finally looking at him. Tony stiffened as the boa swallowed another inch. "They _were_ after her. They found her with you. They took her and attempted to kill you."

"Why then? What's so important?"

"It is none of your concern." Cloak moved toward the elevator.

"It is to my concern. Tell me!" Tony grabbed him by the arm and spun him. He gasped as Cloak moved faster than his mind could calculate. In an instant, he lay on his back—breath knocked out of him—with Cloak glowering down on him.

"It's time you grew up, Son of Stark. This immaturity you display hasn't helped anyone."

He blinked as he caught his breath. "You blame me for Keeva's capture."

His eyes widened, and he shook his head. "That was not your fault. However, you appear to blame yourself for that as well."

When he didn't answer, Cloak continued toward the elevator. Tony pushed himself into a sitting position as the chime of the button rang.

"The answer to your question," Cloak responded as he entered the elevator, "is your memory is jogged when you're surrounded by people you know."

* * *

**Hello loves, hope you're doing well. As you know, any errors are mine, and I'm sorry for them! Also, it's spring break for me (no work! Woo!) So I'm getting a lot accomplished that I hope you'll like it!  
**

**Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Each and every one of you are simply amazing! I love you dearly!**

**Let me know what you're thinking!**

**Also, what's your favorite days for updates? Does it matter? Are Thursday/Friday working for you?**


	33. The World Spins On

_"I just got lost and slept right through the dawn _  
_ And the world spins madly on_"  
_World Spins Madly On—The Weepies_

He was definitely swimming in heavy, baggy clothes—the folds were trying to swallow him whole. It was enough to suffocate in. The sad part?

They were his clothes.

He wasn't sure how much weight he had lost, but it didn't cause him to pick up the chop sticks and shovel food into his mouth any faster. In fact, he had dumped the contents of his box onto a paper plate and was now attempting to construct a timeline in fried rice, chow mien, and sweet and sour chicken.

As he sat at the folding table Cloak had somehow managed to conjure—he had stopped asking questions—he moved a pineapple to the left side of his plate. _Malibu._ His chop sticks next moved a few noodles in messy circles leading from "California", through what he visualized as Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, Colorado, back to Arizona and ending in Nevada. He moved a pea from the fried rice to represent Area 51.

As he moved back to the map, his mind recounted each place he had been and the stops he had made. When he finally finished with a red pepper slice representing New York—which took two paper plates to achieve—he leaned back and scratched his head. Why in the world did he have to go through all of that?

Tony sighed and pulled a third paper plate. In fried rice, he began spelling out the names of all involved—_Me, Pepper, Keeva, Jac, Cloak, Conrad, Amora-whore…_ It was then that an egg roll landed on where he placed Malibu. _Ironic._

He glanced up to see Cloak half-smiling, but a brow was raised in question. "What is it you're trying to do?"

"Figure out what's going on and how to stop it."

Cloak's eyes dropped the plate. He shook his head. "You don't have enough plates to give you the answers you're looking for."

Tony cocked an eye brow.

With a snap of Cloak's fingers, a few more paper plates hovered over the table and landed, quickly making the table look exceedingly small. With a second snap, Tony's food disappeared into the containers they came from. He then moved the plates until he had nine scattered over the table. He looked at Tony. "What do you remember?"

"When?"

"From the beginning of your life until now."

Tony shrugged, as he contemplated what the question had to do with anything. "I remember… My parents died in a car crash. I've been a party boy since I was young. I was trapped in a cave in Afghanistan…"

He paused as he noticed Cloak now creating something with noodles, rice, and some chicken. Tony tipped his head to the side and squinted slightly. The chicken looked like buildings—_no, they marked cities._

Cloak glanced up, handed Tony an egg roll, and went back to work. "Keep talking. What else do you remember?"

"I created the arc reactor, the Iron Man armor, was betrayed by Obadiah, almost died, and had to create a second arc reactor—where is this leading?"

"Where are your memory gaps?"

Tony set his chop sticks on the table and leaned back. "I don't have memory gaps. I feel like I have double memories."

"So which ones are the truth?"

"They both feel like the truth."

Cloak nodded and leaned back, his eyes meeting Tony's. "In Norse mythology there are nine realms—more actually, but for the moment we will only focus on nine. In their myths, these nine are all connected to the tree of Yggdrasill." Cloak issued to the table where the noodles now connected the plates together in the form of a tree.

"Weren't you told not to play with your food?"

"When you have seen as many ages as I, you can do as you please." Cloak smirked. "Now, what do you know about these realms?"

"Keeva talked about them—read about it constantly. She loved the Norse myths."

"She loved any myths, correct?"

Tony nodded. "Anything from Hades to Thor."

"Do you believe they exist?"

He shrugged. "I'd be an idiot not the think that there's life out there somewhere."

"You do believe though, that possibly God exists, and that _this_ theory may possibly have truth somewhere in the mix?"

"I don't know about Asgard, but yes."

"Do you believe magic exists?"

Tony's brows rose, and his hands lifted as he slowly shook his head. "Considering what I've just been through, I believe there's something. Whether it's magic or advanced science, I'm not sure."

Cloak nodded again. "Do you think there is an explanation to the chaos? Does _chaos theory_ have reason?"

"The theory itself states that despite systems seeming simple and of fact which should be governed by well-understood physical laws, that forces are involved that makes those systems behave unpredictably and randomly."

"Which to you means?"

"Things don't always go according to plan."

Cloak shook his head. "Chaos theory looks at systems that are extremely sensitive. One small change can make that system behave entirely different. The butterfly effect falls under this category. One small flap of a butterflies wings can change weather is the saying."

Tony took a bite of the egg roll that had been sitting in his hand. He chewed slowly as his eyes wandered around the room. He already knew this about the theory, but what was it he was supposed to puzzle out. What was he supposed to remember that could—

He stiffened as he swallowed roughly and looked at Cloak. "You're alluding to one minor difference at the start of something would make a major change. What's the point you're trying to make by it?"

Cloak issued to two plates. "In Norse myth, there are these nine realms. The two we will focus on for a second are Midgard, also known as Earth, and Asgard."

"Are you from the land of the fairies or something with the rainbow bridge and unicorns or whatever?"

Cloak smirked. "Asgard? Not by a long shot. That is neither here nor there at the moment. You see these two realms, Midgard and Asgard, are connected by the tree. If something goes a miss in one, it effects the other."

"So something happened in one which gave a consequence to the other. You could have just explained that to me in the beginning."

"I can't explain what you don't already see. And I don't just mean these two realms. They are all connected."

"So what happened in one affected them all?"

Cloak nodded, his eyes focused on Tony. "Do you know what it was?"

He shook his head and watched as Cloak sighed. "You think that Keeva had something to do with it?"

He nodded. "I'm pretty positive she did. I just don't know what."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony was aroused early the next morning by Cloak. At first he tried to roll over on the cold cement floor, but a boot nudged itself a few times into his spine. At one point, he tried to push Cloak away and received a swift kick that connected with his arm. Tony groaned, rubbed his eyes, and looked up from where he curled in the corner.

"I'm not allowed to sleep?"

"Contractor's here."

"Contractor?"

Cloak nodded.

"When—" He shook his head. "I don't want to think about designing this place. I would prefer to catch up on sleep."

"Let's go."

"Did you know I don't like strange people in my house without knowing?"

Cloak's foot nudged him harder. "He's waiting."

He sighed and rose into a sitting position. Cloak extended a hand, pulled him to his feet, where he yawned and stretched. A shiver ran through his bones and he rubbed his fore arms in an attempt to warm up. Cloak threw his heavy shroud around him. Tony blinked as he looked over the man. Cloak was dressed in a long sleeve tunic, traveling pants, boots and a cowl.

"Should I call you Aragorn?"

"Stay with what you know. Cloak's fine. Now let's go."

As Cloak led him into the other room Tony realized Cloak walked straight—no slouching or eyes facing the ground. Tony's eyes narrowed slightly. _Royalty_—Cloak reminded him of a royal. Had Amora hinted at as much?

Cloak led him to the card table where a man with salt and pepper hair sat—more salt, then pepper. Tony tilted his head slightly. The man looked to be in his fifties but there was something about him that seemed almost ageless—maybe because the laugh lines had set in but the wrinkles hadn't started to sag.

The man rose upon seeing Tony.

"This the kid, Declan?"

Cloak nodded.

The man held out his hand. "Name's Vernon."

Tony shifted slightly, and kept his hands at his side. The name sounded familiar—had he met him before? Tony internally shook his thoughts and refocused. If he was going to remodel—forced to remodel by Cloak—he didn't want the press knowing. He looked at Cloak. "If I agree to this, this project stays entirely under wraps, right? He won't say who he's working for, or what he's doing?"

"Absolutely secrecy," replied Vernon.

Tony nodded and shook his hand. "Tony Stark. And I'd appreciate if you started with the bathroom so I can shower."

Vernon's eyes widened; he looked to Cloak. "You found him?"

"I never lost him, Vern."

The man ran a hand through his hair. "Wow, he's grown."

Cloak winced and stiffened slightly. "I suppose that's what you could say. Now, let's start."

Tony's brow rose as the three of them settled around the table. Did Cloak know about the aging issue? What else did he know? He grew frustrated when he was forced to stop questioning and focus on the remodel. As they spoke of flooring, walls, and design, Tony's mind couldn't help but drifted off in another direction.

There was a house—no, a large room. _Marble flooring, a large burgundy red carpet with pearl embroidering, a love seat, an expansive couch and bookshelves—no, shelves holding pictures and awards, a large symbol adorned the ceiling._ Tony stiffened slightly. That's where he'd come across Vernon before. Cloak had been there, in the entry, observing the finished work. The two of them had been talking about it. He shook his mind and the glimpses scattered like fleeting shadows.

As Tony picked out choices for flooring and backsplash, a strange sensation tingled in the corners of his mind. Choosing how to decorate came much too easy. He felt as if he was describing something that already existed. Some work that Vernon had already done—for him. Tony's lips pursed. _Does this mean everything's connected?_

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

It's said that when you die, a white light greets you and pulls you to the other side. Many reports say you'll meet your maker, or see glimpses of your life. The past slowly drifts away and in some beliefs you forget who you were once were. In other cases, you earn your wings and become a guardian angel.

That was not the case.

In fact, she wasn't sure she _was_ dead.

The darkness that surrounded her was almost too much. The weight of it seemed to bear down on every limb, and every limb seemed to be affected as if hit by a Boeing 747. If a plane had actually hit her on the way to the afterlife, she wouldn't be surprised. With the luck she had had in the past few months.

She wasn't sure when she had woken up. All she knew was that she was possibly climbing up stairs, and that her limbs ached from the collision with the air craft. The only thing visible was a gentle white light that glowed softly in the distance. She assumed it was kept behind what could probably be a closed door.

As she climbed to the next step, she found two things: one, the light drew closer, and two, the steps beneath her feet creaked under her weight. She shivered with the sound. It took a few moments for her to begin her ascent again.

Up she climbed until she halted several steps from the door. Fear froze her veins. She had been told never to open that door. She didn't remember who had told her, but she knew it was forbidden. She hesitated. What was beyond the door? Would she find heaven or hell?

"Are you scared?"

Her muscles relaxed upon hearing the once familiar voice; she sought for the owner in the dark. "I don't know what's beyond the door."

"It's probably better than what you've got going on here."

She shook her head. "Do you know what I've been through?"

"More than I have as of late. But do you want to get out?"

She looked down the staircase. A soft blue light lit a living room void of anything but dust and cobwebs. Despite the eerie feeling, it felt alluring in an odd way—like it was coaxing her back down. "I don't know. I have grown rather accustomed to it."

"That's not really how you feel about the prison."

She sighed, and felt the words pour from her mouth like water. "The place is eerie. The stairs creak, and it makes a bunch of peculiar sounds. It keeps me awake. And there's no one with me."

"Then why don't you leave?"

"I am a prisoner in a cell I cannot escape."

"Can't? Or won't?"

She cringed. "Can't."

"Why is that?"

"Because… I don't even know who I am."

A hand gently took her right one. "I'll walk with you as you learn."

"But you can't."

"Why not?"

She glanced down. "You're not really there. Not anymore."

"Are you sure about that? You've been known to be wrong in the past."

She glanced about in the dark and her eyes landed on a faint shadow. Her breath caught in her throat. She felt her lip tremble and she shook her head. "I'm scared."

"I gathered that. But you _can't_ stay here. It's time to move on."

She felt her hand being pulled up the staircase. She hesitated. "I can't…"

"Why is it so hard?"

"I don't know what to trust anymore. I mean, is this…?"

The door opened, blinding her momentarily. When she looked again, her chest tightened. There he stood, as alive as her memory could detail—dark shirt, jeans and that faint blue glow through the shirt. Short dark hair sat atop his head, and a goatee could be made out. Instead of a knife ripping through her heart, tears formed in the corner of her eyes.

He led her into the misty bright room. Objects—possibly a couch and tables—could be faintly made out throughout the new area. She looked as he turned and spoke to her.

"It's killing me to see you this way."

She blinked as her shoulders sagged. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"You should. You know how to make decisions. You're a big girl."

"I've been told never to open that door. I've had all these voices and opinions—"

"They shouldn't matter. You can tell those imaginary people that I miss _our_ little talks."

She glanced back. "I miss the things I can't remember."

"I miss you."

"You have so many other things to think about right now."

He shrugged. "That doesn't mean I can't miss you. And this is something we need to solve together."

"Not if I don't know which side of the line I'm on."

"You think you killed Pepper?"

"I don't…"

He pulled her further as the mist pulled back revealing a living room. Flagstone sat under their feet and a white couch stood in the distance. A large floor to ceiling window showcased the city. "Your mind's playing tricks on you, Keeva. You need to tell it to shut up."

"How do you even know it's me? You're gone. I watched you—"

"_I_ watched _you_ disappear."

"You're gone. Conrad… He… he… If we're going to move past this—if _I'm_ going to move past this—you have to leave me alone. You have to go."

"I don't have to let you go." He chuckled. "I just have to wait for you to get with the program."

He watched as she looked at him. In moments the rest of the mist—along with her—dissolved.

Tony was left standing in his living room, alone. A sharp breath rushed past his lips. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to find her. After a search of the living room, he realized she wasn't there—never had been. His shoulders slumped and his gaze turned toward the floor.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony's favorite part of the remodel was the shower. After that had gone in, he had spent a few hours letting the warm water wash off every last inch of grime from his body. He could have showered before then—Cloak had suggested a hotel—but Tony didn't feel safe anywhere outside the tower. Without his armor, he felt exposed—like a playboy model in a magazine.

He had sat back watching as construction workers scurried around like ants every day; their sole focus at the moment was to finish the living area. During the construction, Tony had come across the floor below and discovered it to be locked. After a few tries—one including a small blast which set the project back three days—he realized that he was barred from entry. He had been frustrated by it for a while, but then he had turned his attention to one of the guest rooms.

After work on the room was completed, he stood in the middle and gazed about. He had it painted a faint blue—like the glow of his reactor. The wall to the left of the door played house to bookshelves. Near the bookshelves sat an oversize reclining chair. The opposite wall gave host to a floor to ceiling window which overlooked Central Park. The ceiling was painted with Van Gogh's Starry Night. A soft light grey rug lay spread across a large portion of the flag stone floor. The wall opposite the door held a large bed, with white sheets. A few feet from the bed stood a door to a bathroom.

Tony sighed and nodded. When he got Keeva back—or actually when she came back—she would enjoy this. His eyes flickered to the door and he startled. Cloak leaned against the door frame, gazing about the room. The corners of his lips were turned up in a sad smile.

Cloak looked over at him, and after a few seconds crossed the floor to where he stood; a black, draw string backpack clutched in his hands. He offered it to Tony.

"What's this?"

"A gift."

Tony took the bag from Cloak. Something inside was soft—_like a jacket._ He had a feeling the bag held something of Keeva's. He gave a stiff nod as silence radiated in the room.

Cloak cleared his throat. "There's a Christmas tree in the other room—"

"It's Christmas already?"

Cloak nodded. "I figured it's your first Christmas here, and after everything that happened, you need something stable. I put a small box of Christmas decorations for the tree. There's also a pot of coffee for you."

Tony perked up at coffee. "Well, I'm ready for a cup—been ready for that or Scotch. And tree decorating sounds interesting. Let's go." He started for the door.

"Not us, Tony. You."

He paused and looked at Cloak. "You're leaving?"

"For a bit. I have a few other things to check on. I'll be back in the morning."

He shifted his weight to his right foot. "You will?"

"I promise."

He scratched the back of his neck. ""Then I'll see you in the morning."

Cloak nodded, and he gazed once more about the room. "Thank you, Tony."

"For what?"

He shook his head and disappeared in a wisp of black smoke.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

White lights wrapped the otherwise bare ten-foot Grand Fir tree. In the dark of the room it shown like a beacon of hope, and the angel—from the box—he had decidedly placed on top led the way. It was something she had wanted when they discussed plans for Christmas that year. Despite what little supplies he was given, he had decided to do anything to make the holiday special.

The sweet smell of dark chocolate and cherry invaded his nostrils as he gazed at the Christmas tree before him. A mug sat snug between his hands. Every few minutes the dark drink touched his lips and warm coffee filled his system providing comfort to every part of his body. He had never been one for flavored coffee, but this had been one of Keeva's favorites after he got her addicted to the nectar of the gods.

"_You don't know what Christmas is?"_

"_No, I know," she replied. "You showed me enough movies that I could probably fool myself into remembering the last one I had, if I had one."_

"_I wonder what your life was like before you entered Conrad's house of fun."_

_She smiled as she poured coffee into a cup. "Me too. But I bet anything it wasn't as exciting as hanging out with a self-centered, arrogant billionaire."_

"_There you are again biting the hand that feeds you. You do realize that self-centered billionaire has allowed you to live under his roof free of charge, right?"_

_She looked over at him as her spoon clinked against the side of the mug. "I suppose that's something to be thankful for. Maybe for Thanksgiving I'll say a proper thank you."_

"_You can say thank you right now by giving me that coffee."_

"_You won't like this."_

"_What is it?"_

"_Dark cherry mocha." She took a sip._

"_Where'd you get that?"_

_She bit her bottom lip as her eyes looked down at the mug. "I might have found your order form for food."_

_He walked to the counter, and pulled the cup from her. "That explains why the bills gone up."_

_She shrugged. "I like Cheetos."_

"_Which clarifies why five bags arrived last week." He looked at her. "So, what do you want to do for Christmas? Cheetos?"_

_She rolled her eyes. "I've never had a Christmas."_

"_We've come to that conclusion already." He sipped the drink. "You've watched enough movies though. What did you like best?"_

_Her eyes settled on the mug as her lips pursed. She then turned for another mug. "Well, I liked how people decorated their houses. Those little villages are adorable, as are the window frostings, and the manger scene. I liked the really tall trees—Grand Fir—with white lights and the angel on top. I saw a few where they collected ornaments over the years and that's what went on their trees. It was also nice to see friends and family gather together. Also, opening gifts early in the morning while the tree could still shine; before the sun had risen. That was neat. I enjoyed those scenes very much."_

_She finished making another coffee and leaned back against the counter. "The thought of Santa visiting and his reindeer on the roof, or snow coating the ground while Frosty sits by the porch steps and bells jungle softly in the background…" A soft smile crossed her face, before it turned into a frown and her eyes looked to him. "But those are silly wishes. That's something I could never have."_

_Tony shrugged. "You live with a self-centered, arrogant billionaire. Who's to say what could happen?"_

Three months later he was watching the white lights on an ornament-less tree—alone. He sighed. At least he respected her wishes as best he could. He imagined she would enjoy it.

He startled upon hearing soft laughter.

"Are you paying attention, Jarvis?"

He sat up quickly; his eyes glanced around the dark room.

"Yes, miss. We are recording." _Jarvis?_

"Good. Tony? Tony! Are you around?"

He searched the dark. His eyes settled on the bag Cloak had given him. It had found a spot on a chair, still unopened. He quickly set his coffee down and moved to the bag. Pulling open the draw strings, he emptied the contents onto the chair. Out fell the sweater he gave her, the reactor in glass Pepper had gifted him, the Star Wars ball, and Keeva's tablet. It was glowing brightly and her face was glancing about his old workshop.

"Tony, have you found it yet?" She laughed. "Okay Jarvis, when he hits the 'on' button, it's your job to make this seamless. He designed you, so I trust you."

Tony hesitated; his finger hovered over the 'on' button. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it. The screen went black. His eyes widened. _What kind of—_

He heard a soft click as the electronics in the house turned off followed by the Christmas tree. The only lights in the room came from other skyscrapers shining softly in the distance. What the hell had Keeva done?

A low hum started up as the Christmas tree lit up along with dimmer lighting. The breaker seemed to reset on its own, bringing the power back through the house. It left his jaw hanging.

"Sir, I would recommend clamping your jaw, or are you attempting to mimic a big mouth bass?"

The Bristish voice… It echoed over speakers.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"How… How is this possible?"

The screen in his hands lit up.

"If you're watching this, it means a few things, Tony," Keeva said, flashing back on the screen. "First, it means Jarvis successfully rebooted in the new tower. Second, it means that I have yet to come back."

Tony's eyes widened. _What the hell?_

"Okay, so you know the door that's locked downstairs? You most likely do, it's probably driving you crazy why you can't open it. Well, go open it. It should work now," instructed Keeva.

Without a second thought, Tony grabbed the tablet, threw the sweater, reactor, and ball in the bag, grabbed his coffee, and bolted down the stairs. Reaching the locked door, he tried the handle, only to be met with a still-bolted door.

"Jarvis, open the door."

"Yes, sir."

Tony heard the tale-tell click of a lock and tried again. This time the handle opened. He shoved open the door and looked in. He was shocked to see a single light above a glass desk. Walking closer, he realized it was a touch screen desk like the destroyed one from the ocean house. Screens sat on the desk and started when he touched the desk. He set down the bag, coffee and tablet—which darkened.

"Sir, I have been fully uploaded into the main frame. Entire house control estimated in forty-five seconds."

"Did Keeva set this up, Jarvis?"

Instead of an answer, a video popped up on the screen before him. She yawned then chuckled. "Okay, so I'm sure you have plenty of questions, but those are for later. There should be a crow bar to your left along with several large boxes. Oh! And a suitcase with clothes. Have fun."

The screen turned black as the lights slowly rose revealing several large wooden crates and a suitcase in the corner. He gaped at the expanse of the room which definitely came close, if not surpassed, the square footage in the Malibu workshop—and he wasn't quite sure how.

Tony moved to the suitcase first and unzipped it. Several of his favorite outfits were inside. He glanced next to the suitcase to find a crow bar. He grabbed the crow bar and headed towards a box. He slammed the tip of the tool into the side of a wooden box, and tugged. Pulling off the wood he looked inside to see the Mark II. The bar clattered to the ground as his jaw dropped.

"She knew what was coming…"

* * *

**Hope your week's been going wonderful! As always, thank you to all my wonderful readers. You guys are amazing. I love you guys a ton!**

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	34. Web of Secrets

_"If you want to keep a secret,_  
_you must also hide it from yourself."_  
_ ―George Orwell_

He didn't realize what time it was until he smelled coffee and what was certainly a warm cheese Danish. He spun on the stool and saw Cloak standing in the door frame with a tray of sustenance; eyes wide, and gazing about the new workshop—_not the workshop, __**my**__ new workshop._

"Nice place," Cloak commented, drawing near.

Tony glanced about. The floor was smooth cement; the glass table he sat at was centered in the room, complete with holographic monitors—something he would have put in. Looking up, he saw his Stark Industries logo painted across the ceiling. He grabbed a cup of coffee from the tray.

"I didn't do it. And I can't figure out how Keeva did."

Cloak set the tray down and picked up a cup of coffee. "Been down here all night?"

"Old habits die hard. Did I mention I want to know how this came about?"

He smiled slightly. "It must be a good day for you."

Tony tilted his head slightly and took another sip of coffee. "I'll bite. Why do you say that?"

"You're feisty again. It's been a while."

He leaned back in his seat and shrugged. "I have a mostly put-together house, Jarvis is back, it's Christmas day, I'm not dead." He looked at him pointedly. "Should I continue?"

Cloak took a sip and his smile grew. "You taught her well."

Tony's brow rose. "What do you mean?"

"This." He issued to the workshop. "All of this. You taught her how to complete things like this."

"I'm not following."

Cloak grabbed a second stool, and sat down. "There are times when things trigger your memories, correct?"

Tony nodded.

"There are times when things triggered her memory. It allowed her to realize how she could accomplish a feat such as this from the workshop in Malibu. It was a trick you taught her."

"You're saying we did know each other before?"

"You've already assumed this. It's not exactly a secret."

Tony took another sip of coffee then gazed at the cup. "Did she know Pepper?"

Cloak didn't immediately answer, instead allowing the silence to wash over them. "You've already suspected it."

Tony looked up. "But I need to know if she knew Pepper."

He nodded.

Tony sighed and looked away. His fingers gripped the white mug. Even if Keeva didn't outright kill Pepper, it still left the thought that she had something to do with Pep's death. He blinked.

"Keeva would have never intentionally killed Pepper," Cloak responded after a long silence. "She never would have done anything that risked the lives of those she cared about."

"What if she hated Pepper?"

"Doubtful. However, even in that event, you cared for Pepper and Keeva respected you."

Tony looked back at Cloak. "Pepper was found…" He swallowed roughly. "With a faded pentagram etched on her chest. Do you know what that means?"

"Was it branded or etched?"

Tony shrugged. "I don't remember. Does it matter?"

Cloak nodded. "Etched can mean anything. Branded means she's lucky all she is dead."

"I can't see how that's lucky."

"If she was branded, that is a very black magic, extremely dark. It would turn even the purest creature into something twisted. It is another demon tactic, but only the most feared demons use it."

"Demons have magic?"

"Do not be foolish, you know that they have powers. Depending on the demon their powers range. Some can only torment, others only speak, some can corrupt the mind—"

"What about the ones who attacked me?"

Cloak passed Tony a cheese Danish. "The Praebolus in your tongue means the Devil's Huntsman. It will pillage and plunder any place it pleases, it has been known to prowl in search of victims to terrify and kill, and hunt for its prey across any realm."

He bit into the Danish. "So basically they're like bounty hunters."

Cloak nodded. "However, they are of lesser concern than the all-feared Quainferi."

"Which is the lizard man that straddled—violated—me?"

"Yes. They are not to be trifled with. Their name roughly translates to Seeker from Hell, or Hell's Seeker. They are enlisted by only the darkest of what hell has to offer. They're excruciatingly difficult to kill, but the worst part about them is the fact that once they catch a scent of prey they will never stop hunting until they find you."

"But you killed two."

"It was the same one." Cloak sipped his coffee. "I sent it through a warp tunnel—or a black gate—the first time, but Amora summoned it back. Jac killed it, but it cost him dearly. The law states that it is illegal for the Quainferi to set foot on Earth since nothing here can destroy them."

"But in the other realms?"

"There are creatures powerful enough to kill them, though not many. It is by sheer luck that there are also few Quainferi."

"Or nature's law about balance."

Cloak smiled slightly and inclined his head. "Or that, Stark Jr."

Tony took another bite of Danish. "You knew my father."

Cloak nodded. "Fine man he was."

"How long did you know him?"

"I've already stated that I've seen plenty of ages."

"His whole life?"

"Not his whole life, but I saw him through many changes in his life from meeting and marrying your mother to your birth and through death."

He munched on another bite of Danish in thought. "Did you know me?"

Cloak sighed. "It's hard to explain at the present moment, but you know we knew each other."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Shivers raked through her body as she jolted awake. Sweat drenched her clothes. Tears streaked her face and a shuddering breath left her lips. She shifted, only to realize she had fallen asleep on her stomach—_Where am I?_ Using her hands she propped herself up—_Hands?_

Her eyes dropped to ten pale fingers. Her gaze traced its way up skeletal arms. She was human again. Part of her was extremely grateful for this. The other part wasn't sure what to make of being back in this form. She shook her head. Everything seemed to be happening in fast forward.

A shudder ran through her bones again. _Where am I?_ She forced herself to her knees and looked to find herself on a small cot. Looking down at her body, she noticed grey cotton clothes. At least she appeared to be taken care of. However, a closer look at her limbs revealed she was indeed malnourished again. She hadn't expected anything less in that department.

Her eyes next travelled around the room. The cot was nestled against steel walls, in a corner on the wall closest stood a full length mirror. She startled upon seeing a man's reflection in it. She turned her head.

He sat not far from her in a metal chair; his bright green eyes—_emerald_—watching her closely. For a moment, her entire body froze. Would he attack her? What was his purpose? After a heartbeat, she took another moment to study him.

He was leaning back in the chair, quite relaxed, but still held a straight posture as if he had gone through etiquette school. His light skin was bronzed like he'd been working outside all day.

"Where am I?" The words scratched her throat as a forced whisper left her lips. How long had it been since she last spoke?

"You're with S.H.I.E.L.D."

She cringed. "This is confinement."

He shook his head. "Natasha will not speak a word of what happened in the facility. You're safe."

"Who's Natasha?"

The man grinned. "I suppose you know her as Natalie."

Her eyes widened. "The assassin is safe?"

He nodded. "She rescued you from the island."

Her right hand—_praise God, hands!_—touched her forehead. The last thing she remembered was hearing a gun shot. After that, darkness had consumed her. Her eyes dropped to her left arm revealing no bite marks. "Where'd they go?"

"They've been healed."

"How?"

"All in due time, little one."

She blinked. The nickname felt soothing and a sea of calm washed over her. She relaxed against the wall behind her. "I… I have so many questions."

"I know. And I will answer what I can."

"You can answer my—"A brow rose, and she shook her head. "Wait. You… You'll give me answers?"

He smiled. "I'll answer what I can, yes."

Her shoulders slumped. "But not all the questions."

"No. Some things only you can answer."

She took a deep breath. Her fingers ran over the pillow she grabbed. "You're the one that calls me little one."

He nodded. "Yes, I'm the one that calls you that."

"Then… I must know you."

"Only time will help you with that."

She hugged the flat pillow to her chest. A yawn left her lips. Despite just waking up, she felt as if she hadn't slept in weeks. "What do I call you?"

"My name is Aidan."

That name seemed familiar, but then again, so had many other things.

He looked at her expectantly. "What is your name?"

After a few heart beats, she responded. "Keeva."

"Is that so?"

A brow rose. She stiffened and felt the blood drain from her face. "You know me. Which means… you know my name."

Aidan nodded.

"Anyone who knows me knows my name."

"Not everyone. It has kept you out of trouble in the past. However, you're at the point now where it's almost safer to go by _your_ name."

She shook her head. "My name is…Keeva and it will stay that way."

Aidan's lip quirked in an amused smile as he studied her. "Okay, _Keeva_. Now how about some food?"

She rose from the bed, her eyes wide. Her legs, however, shook and she fell sideways into the wall. Pushing against the cold steel, she attempted to stand again. After getting her footing, she moved toward the door. She paused as she crossed the mirror. Her attention glanced towards it, her mouth aghast.

It wasn't her skeletal look that startled her, nor the fact that her hair was now a dark golden-blonde color. It was the fact she only had an inch—maybe an inch and a half—of hair on her head. Her right hand reached her head; her fingers gently touched the strands. After the first wave of shock passed, she swallowed roughly. _At least it's still thick…_

"I'll explain that as well, but let's get you some food first, Keeva."

She looked at him. It had been so long since someone had referred to her by a name.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

After a lunch of blandly flavored sloppy joes and macaroni and cheese—which she was forced to use a spoon to eat—Aidan brought her into what she assumed was a training room. One wall held punching bags dangling from the ceiling; another house treadmills, stair steppers and ellipticals. In the middle stood a boxing ring void of any life at the moment.

Upon seeing the ring, she swallowed roughly and shook her head.

Aidan walked towards the treadmill wall. "You'll have to fall into the role of S.H.I.E.L.D agent."

She blinked and turned her attention on him. "I don't want to work for them."

"You're not working for them. You're basically going undercover."

"What's the point?"

Aidan paused by in front of an elliptical. "You don't see a point in this?"

"Honestly, no." She crossed her arms and looked away. "What's been the point of anything?"

Aidan leaned against the machine. "You don't always see the point of trials until much later on."

"Oh because that's cryptically helpful."

"Hop onto the elliptical. I'll show you what I mean."

She looked at him, shifting from foot to foot as she decided. Finally, she uncrossed her arms and climbed onto the machine.

"Now start moving."

One foot after another started her off and for a while that was all she could focus on. She felt her muscles stretch and creak as they woke up from their slumber.

"How do you feel?"

She didn't answer him immediately as she picked up pace to a jog. It felt good to move around again. She glanced at him. "I still see no purpose."

"By doing this, you're waking up your muscles. They've been sleeping now for about a month."

Her eyes widened slightly. "A month?"

"You didn't expect to heal from that bite any quicker, did you?"

She blinked, and slowed her jog. Her mouth hung speechlessly open for a few minutes before she swallowed. "What happened to me?"

"You were bitten."

"By a zombie."

"Not exactly," he corrected gently.

She shook her head and her brow furrowed. "Those people… I called them zombies, and that's how Earth sees them. But there are different kinds of zombies. Right?"

"Yes, the normal zombies that Earth thinks of, and those demon-possessed ones that attacked you and Natasha."

"How am I alive? I thought… Aren't those bites just as bad as others?"

"Natasha and I saved you. Come to think of it, you probably owe her a favor or two." Aidan shrugged. "Come, there's something else we're going to do."

She hopped down from the elliptical and followed him through a doorway into an adjoining room. The first thing she noticed were booths. Beyond those were black and white paper people—_targets._ She cringed.

"I hate guns."

Aidan glanced at her as he approached a gun locker. "Why is that?"

Her brow furrowed. "I… I don't know."

"You can't remember at all?"

She shook her head as she watched him pull a gun—_glock_—from the black metal cabinet on the wall and a round of ammo. He grabbed two ear muffs and approached one of the booths. He issued for her to approach.

"I told you. I don't like guns."

"You need to refresh yourself with how to use one if you're going to go undercover on this ship."

"I don't even want to be here."

Aidan caught her gaze and held it. "Why are you so frightened?"

"I'm not frightened. I just… I don't see a point."

"Come here, little one. You'll be okay."

She felt her shoulders relax as she walked to him. He held one of the earmuffs out to her and she placed them over her ears. He loaded the gun and handed it to her. Her ear twitched as he moved the right side of her muff.

"Aim, relax, and fire."

The concept seemed a bit weird, but she lifted the gun anyway. It felt heavy—awkward even. She raised it towards where the head was and fired. A tremor ran through her bones as she leaned backwards. She put the gun down and spun towards Aidan as she pulled off her earmuffs.

"I hate guns. I can't shoot. I can't remember."

Aidan moved the earmuffs to his neck. "You took one shot."

"I won't pick this up no matter how many shots I take. I'm never going to learn."

"Why are you so frustrated?"

"Because everything is meaningless. There is no point to any of this! I have no purpose, no being, nothing to live for! You want me to pick up this habit and it's not even like I can remember my other ones. I don't understand why I'm even here."

A soft smile lined his lips. "You're trying too hard."

Her eyes narrowed. "To shoot? Okay, I know a shot I _can_ make and end this all in one go."

Aidan's gaze softened. "That's not what you want either."

"No?" she growled. "Tell me why not? I've got nothing to live for, nowhere to be. It's not like anyone is expecting me home one day! I'm just… I'm nothing. I get people injured and _killed_."

"You don't see it because you're trying too hard. It's like one of those optical illusion pictures that you have to squint in order to see the object, but if you're looking too hard you're unable to see it." Aidan turned her around. "You're trying to think. You can't think anymore. You have to feel. You have to trust. You have instincts for a reason. Now try again."

"I'm done feeling!" she countered, and looked up at him. "You don't get it. You don't know what it's like to be alone."

Aidan smiled sadly. "I don't know what it's like to be in a crowded room and feel as if no one cares?"

She blinked and her eyes lowered to the ground.

"I know perfectly well what that's like, little one. I know the feeling of loneliness. But you need to know that you are never alone. You are always loved and cared for. There is always someone out there who thinks about you and wonders if you're safe."

"But I—"

"The world is not always as you think it is, little one. The view changes depending on your perspective, and right now you can't see past the pain you're burying deep inside."

She opened her mouth to protest but Aidan held up a hand.

"I'm not asking you to tear down those walls. You will have to deal with that when the time comes. All I'm asking is that you pick up that gun and let your instinct take over."

She took a few breaths before she nodded in response. He was being kind and fair toward her; she should do the same. She put her earmuffs on and picked up the gun as her thoughts slightly soured again.

Instincts, those had sure done her a world of good considering it was one of the reasons Malibu… She shook her head and aimed. Her breathing slowed as she lined up the target. Instincts were worthless. Instincts were trouble. Instincts had never done anything good. Right…? It had been the reason Conrad had found her and stormed into the house and workshop.

Her eyes narrowed. Conrad had been the reason she was alone. He was the reason her instincts were in question. She was at fault for letting him take what he wanted—again. No matter what way she looked at it, she was at fault. However, Conrad had been the one to start the war.

With a soft breath out, she pulled the trigger. Without thinking, she cocked the gun again and took another shot. In seconds, she unloaded the gun and placed it on the table.

"Nicely done, Keeva."

She blinked and looked. Each of the targets against the wall were shot at least once in the head. She glanced at the gun and then back up to the 'victims'.

It wasn't instinct, she had been trained before.

Her voice was quiet when she spoke. "Natasha taught me."

"I see this did help some. If you end up in a fight though, I suggest shooting somewhere less fatal. It might not turn out in your favor. However, if you were in a zombie apocalypse you would do wonderfully."

She placed the earmuffs next to the gun. Her shoulders slumped and her gaze dropped toward the floor. Anything he said now didn't matter. "I'm done. I want to sleep."

Aidan nodded. "I understand."

Turning, she made to leave the room.

"What happened in Malibu wasn't your fault."

Lead and ice filled her veins as she swallowed back the memory. She felt a small part of her brain flick to switch gears. Her nose then flared as she turned a narrowed glance his way. "You say you know everything; you _claim_ you know everything. Then you'd _know_ what happened in Malibu was my fault."

"But as I said, not everything is as it appears. You should obviously know that."

She stiffened and approached him. "You want me to do train or whatever it is you're trying to do with me? Fine. You can teach me to change. I want to transform into that cub. I'm one of those shape-shifter things, right?"

Aidan nodded. "If you can tell me who you are, I will show you."

She scoffed. "You know I can't remember my past."

"That's why training helps. It allows you to open those memories that have been locked away for so long."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"Jarvis, wake up."

"You make it hard to sleep, sir."

Tony watched as the lights came on around his workshop. Metal walls slowly slid away revealing windows showing a snowy white New York City. He stretched and leaned back on the metal stool. It had been a month since Christmas and three since Keeva had been abducted. It was only in the last month though, that he had gotten back on his feet.

It wasn't even his doing. After his hospital visit, his time travelling across the country, and the death of Jac, he hadn't exactly been at the top of his game. It was the gift of having Jarvis back and the company with Cloak that had brought him back to life.

Cloak hadn't revealed much—not that he had exactly questioned—but just the push of getting the tower together and the knowledge that Keeva was indeed alive—apparently she had escaped confinement—was enough to set him straight. Cloak was happy to give Tony the shove he needed.

At first Tony had turned his thoughts toward his company. It had taken a downward spiral during his apparent coma in the hospital, and then when he was considered a fugitive for that short stint of time. With his company no longer losing money, but gaining it instead, he moved his thoughts towards the Green Project. It still stumped him, but it gave his mind something else to focus on.

It was only in the last week he had realized he was running—something he had a habit of doing. He knew his first priority should have been analyzing the RT in his chest, but a part of him was afraid of what he would find. If his life depended on the glowing circle in his chest, what would happen if there was something defective about it? He would rather pretend like everything was fine then find out it really wasn't.

It was a mystery how he had gotten it and Cloak had been vague—once again, not that he had hounded Cloak for answers. He looked at the reactor the same way he looked at a few other things in his life. He had owned a classic car he had worked on with his father, but after his father's death while he tinkered with it, he never finished it. The same with the Green Project. It had been something Pepper and he had worked on, but after her death, he had gotten stuck and couldn't complete it.

From what he remembered about that night three months ago, he knew Keeva had been talking about a reactor and his gut told him it was the light in the corner he had seen. However, he didn't want to know for sure—even if it might be killing him. He preferred to let well enough alone like he did with everything else that held significance.

However, another video had popped up two days ago. Keeva must have planned them out—of course, it was only more proof that she knew Conrad would attack and Tony wasn't sure what to make of that. However, this one had slightly changed the way he viewed running.

_Keeva smiled at Dummy who sat next to her. The robot has always seemed to entertain her. "You know, I think Tony actually likes you. He keeps saying he wants to use you for scraps but I think he really enjoys having you spray him with the fire extinguisher." Keeva looked at the camera. "You really do like him, don't you Tony? He's like your child."_

_She laughed quietly and patted the robot on the "head". Despite the fragments of a smile, her eyes turned serious. "Tony, I've seen the things around your workshop and the half finished projects. It's interesting that someone so intelligent can't find ways to finish any of them. It is a strange concept."_

_Her attention turned to Dummy. "One of my issues, or weaknesses, or faults, or however you want to term it, is running. I'm sure you've picked up on that concept already. I love to avoid the pain and sorrow and the suffering. I run by literally running away to hide, or by retreating and putting walls up around me. I'm not good at confrontation or conversations. Heck, we've fought more than we should because I run, which in itself is funny because by trying to avoid what I fear most, I cause it to happen. Life's like that though. You try to avoid what you're running from and it actually brings it to fruition." She sighed and looked at the camera. "I can't change overnight. I won't wake up tomorrow and be able to have long conversations and tell you all the things I feel. I won't even be able to tell you how thankful and grateful I am that you saved me from Conrad. Instead, we'll probably laugh and bicker about something like usual. But, I can take one step at a time. I can wake up tomorrow and force myself to say one nice thing to you, or have one conversation I don't want to have._

"_That's really how change works. It's not sudden or instant. It's a step at a time. It's one little thing that moves into two little things and before you know it, there's change staring you in the face and you never saw it coming. It's all because there's a step at a time taken…"_

He had mulled over her words for the last two days, which is what now brought him to his workshop where he lightly tapped the reactor on his chest. "Jarvis, run an analysis on this RT. I want to know everything about it."

"Already been completed for you, sir."

Tony watched as several diagrams appeared on the screens before him. A sigh left his lips. The first step had been easier than expected. An analysis on it had already been run, but the question 'how' now remained. "Where'd it come from?"

"I'm afraid that file has yet to unlock."

"Unlock?"

"There are certain files that are barred from viewing."

"So unlock them."

"That is beyond my ability."

"Beyond your ability?"

"It appears as if your hearing has indeed remained intact, sir."

Tony sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Just tell me what you mean."

"The files are programmed to unlock at different times. It is a safety measure."

"And I can't open them now?"

"They are not designed to do that."

"And who designed them?"

"I thought the answer to this one might be obvious, sir. I was apparently wrong. Miss Keeva created these files."

Tony rose from the stool and began to pace. It wasn't a surprise that Keeva had done this—he already knew she did. He did wonder how she was able to pull something like this off. Where had she learned it from? Conrad?

Tony paused and looked at the RT diagrams. "Do you know who taught her, Jarvis?"

"Another obvious question you have apparently missed, sir. You taught her."

The new RT _was_ modeled just like the old one. Except… he hadn't taught Keeva about it. However, that didn't mean she hadn't studied the reactor Pepper had encased in glass. "What's the difference in this one?"

A few moments passed before another diagram popped up. Tony stiffened as he looked over it.

"Sir, it appears some of the files are phrase or word protected. This one has opened due to your question."

Tony swallowed as he took a step closer. On the screen was a model of Extremis next to a model of the RT. A note was typed next to it.

_"Because I know you're still going to attempt this. The power in the RT can now handle your design."_

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**Hello lovelies! You all are amazing! Hope life is treating you well! Thank you to all those who read!  
**

**As always, I hope you enjoyed!**

**Remember! Review and/or follow to let me know!**


	35. What If I Told You

**Hello lovelies! Hope you enjoy this week of my escape from real life. **(As a side note: Previous chapters are getting a facelift but nothing's changing except flow)**  
**

_**If you're looking for a good song to play in the background check out What If I Told You by Jason Walker. This chapter was inspired by it.**_

**(Tony's drunk chapter was number 10 if you need a reminder.)**

**Remember to follow, fav, and review!**

* * *

_EVE__: Name?__  
__WALL-E__: WALL-E.__  
__EVE__: WALL-E?__[__giggles__]__EVE.__  
__WALL-E__: Eeee...__  
__EVE__: EVE.__  
__WALL.E__: Eeeee... aah.__  
__EVE__: "EVE"! "EVE"!__  
__WALL.E__: Eeeee... va?__  
__[__EVE giggles__]_

_Keeva fiddled with the glass case of a reactor. "These nanites, the armor… I feel like we've had these fights before." She looked up. "I don't know what it means, Tony. I don't know if it's déjà vu because we've followed along fate's chosen path or if it means something more."_

He leaned back as another video popped up on the screen.

_The look on her face was grim. Her eyes couldn't meet the monitor, her mouth didn't close as she struggled for words and air. Her accent became apparent again. "I've not told you something important. I… I should have. By all means. But… I knew it would destroy a friendship. You see, Rhodes was subpoenaed by the High Courts—no, yours is called the Supreme Court._

"_He told them of me. And that you've had me. They're awaiting orders which means what I'm doing I must finish quickly. I don't believe they'll get me. I think Conrad will beat them to it. In fact, I know he will."_

Tony sat up, wide eyed. "Jarvis, when was this recorded?"

"Eleven twenty-seven PM on the twenty-eighth of September, sir."

"And when did Conrad attack?"

"One forty-one AM on October the ninth."

Tony rubbed his eyes as another video popped up. Keeva was cradling the arc reactor Pepper had given him.

"_If you're watching this… I never expected you to. I'd hoped we would be around each other again. And by this point, I assumed that you would know more about me because I would have told you." She swallowed. "Apparently not. Apparently… Things don't happen the way we wish." She sighed. "All my life I lived in a cage. I never knew anything outside of the hell Conrad brought upon me. I struggled for years to just exist. Then you saved me. And everything was different. Everything had changed."_

His fingers brushed against the glass table and the screens disappeared. Running a hand through his hair, he rose from his seat and took the elevator to the main floor. Walking over to the bar, he poured himself a glass of Scotch. Before taking a drink, he rubbed his eyes again.

How could she have withheld that kind of information from him? Why hadn't she shared anything? Even now in those videos, she was cryptic. What the hell did she think she was doing? Did she not think he should know about Rhodes?

As he glanced around the room, he noticed Cloak out on the veranda gazing out at the night skyline. Tony topped off his drink and headed outside. As he moved to stand beside Cloak, he noticed the man held a glass of red wine and gently swirled it around the glass.

"Evening," Clock said with a nod, his gaze remaining on the twinkling lights.

Tony wasn't sure how to respond at first as his mind continued to run through possibilities of why Keeva had lied to him.

Cloak finally glanced over, eyed the Scotch, and leaned against the glass railing. "Mortals always seem to have a knack of finding what's worst for them and running to it."

"I just want to relax."

"With your demons."

Tony looked at the glass. Was there anything wrong with having a drink or two? It wasn't like he was drinking the bottle tonight.

"It's a very interesting habit. Although it isn't limited to mortals."

Tony glanced up. "I didn't realize I was in the presence of a god."

Cloak chuckled. "No, I am not a god. I do not consider myself a god and neither should the others. There are too many things out of our control that we can't fix."

Tony looked at him. "So then, what are you?"

Cloak shrugged; his gaze settled on the burgundy liquid in his crystal glass. "I'm not sure anymore."

"What were you?"

"It depends on who you asked."

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes. "Look Dumbledore, are you going to give me a straight answer?"

He shook his head. "I cannot give you a firm answer."

"This seems to be a running theme. Apparently you and everyone else want to play a game."

Cloak smiled. "You're catching on quick, son of Stark."

Tony shifted his weight to his right foot and looked away. He took a sip of Scotch. Why was it that everyone seemed to know more about what was going on then they said? He rolled his eyes and decided to start with a simpler subject. "So, you liked my father?"

Cloak looked at him. "He was a good man."

He felt his chest tighten and he took another sip of amber liquid. "Or a workaholic, alcoholic…"

"Seems you are following in his footsteps," he responded with a glance towards the Scotch.

"You're drinking."

"I'm also immortal and I don't drink excessively, nor does it affect me in the same way."

Tony walked to a glass table with black iron legs that stood on the veranda. He set his Scotch on it and settled into an iron chair that accompanied the table. "I've lived here before."

He nodded. "When you were younger."

"No. I've lived _here_."

Cloak turned to him. "Elaborate."

"You already know this."

"I can't give you answers unless you say them."

Tony's brow rose. "Well, that defeats the purpose of asking. And if that were so, then you wouldn't have given me information over dinner last month."

"I never told you anything you didn't figure out yourself. You knew about the realms, you knew about chaos theory, and you figured out that all the realms are effected by each other." Cloak walked to the table and sat down. "There are times in life where we say things that are mind comprehends, but it doesn't make sense to us at the time. I am not allowed to outright tell you things, but I can reword what you're thinking."

Tony pursed his lips momentarily as he let the words sink in. "You're trying to bend the rules."

"I would never do such a thing." The small smirk he held said otherwise.

"So you can't break the rules but you made the rules?"

Cloak shook his head. "Not all of them. I bargained for the immunity of mortals during this dispute. "

"Not _all_ mortals. They killed Pepper."

"They dispose of those who find out too much or can in some way be used to reverse events."

"Reverse events?"

"That, I can't speak on."

Tony's left hand gripped the arm rest on the chair. "Well, you just told me more than I know. Does this mean they'll come after you now?"

He shook his head. "You know I made some rules, which include the majority of mortals being kept safe. You know not everyone is mortal. And you know that there are pawns being used and killed."

"You really like pushing the bar."

"Where it can be pushed, yes."

Tony leaned back against the chair. He picked up his Scotch and swirled it around the glass. "Pepper was a pawn?"

"I don't know the exact circumstances of why she was killed, so I cannot speculate on that. But, she did hold some importance."

He put the glass down. He glanced at the twinkling lights in the distance then turned his attention to the table and took a deep breath. "Did Keeva kill Pepper?"

"We've been over this before." Cloak sighed, and shook his head. "What is it _you_ think, son of Stark?"

He shook his head. He knew Cloak had told him no, but even Cloak wasn't sure on all the details. "With all the secrets she kept from me, I can't be sure."

A soft _hmm_ was heard, but Cloak made no attempt at an answer.

Tony downed the rest of his Scotch and rose, making his way back to the bar. He stopped before entering the tower. "You know, she's such a liar. She didn't tell me a damn thing. Here I was taking in some strange girl and she _lied_ the entire time. She _knew_ Rhodey was coming after me. She _knew_ Conrad was coming back and she kept it to herself."

He stormed back inside, hesitating in front of the bar.

_How could she?_ After everything he had done for her, everything he had risked for her, she kept everything quiet. Things he _needed_ to know she had remained mute about. The fingers of his free hand traced a circle over the fabric that covered his RT. She hadn't said anything about designing a damn arc reactor or tinkering with the Extremis idea. If she had said something about Conrad coming back to get her, they could have saved Malibu and come up with a plan to keep her out of harm's way. As another thought crossed his mind, he growled and chucked his glass into the wall, listening to it shatter and the pieces scatter across the floor.

He didn't even know her damn name.

"She wouldn't have done it to harm you."

Tony spun towards Cloak. "So that makes everything better? That makes everything okay now?" His voice pitched into a mock. "Oh, Keeva—or whoever the hell she is—wouldn't have meant any of it. That just gives her a free pass."

Cloak's eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone, Stark."

He turned from Cloak and walked towards the kitchen. "Right. I forgot. You're her bodyguard or whatever bullshit you want to feed me. I should keep my mouth shut then. But you know what? Maybe she's better off wherever she is now. Maybe she found someone who she won't lie to. Or maybe they taught her not to lie. Because obviously, that's a fucking issue she has. She's obviously competing with Bernie Madoff. How much money of mine did she take? She was just one huge fucking fraud—"

In seconds he found himself slammed into a wall, feet dangling off the ground. A shuddering breath left his lungs. Cloak held him by his shirt, the man's eyes narrowed and glinting. Tony swore he saw a flicker of blue flame run through the black hair.

"You _will_ watch your words. Jac did not sacrifice himself so that you could make a fool of yourself."

Tony held onto Cloak's arms, unsure if he wanted to push away or keep himself from falling when he was let go. He did notice that apart from the initial slam, Cloak didn't seem bent on harming him—he was allowed to breathe.

"She lied to me, Cl–Declan."

"And that gives you the right to get drunk and go off on a rage?"

"First, I'm not drunk. Second, if she had told me, things would have turned out differently. I wouldn't have lost a ton of money for one thing. Sure, I might have scared her when I got drunk and hit her with the repulsor, but that's—"

"You what?" Declan growled and he pressed Tony into the wall.

Suddenly, he had a feeling that anything he said was going to be wrong. "We moved past that issue. She wasn't still upset. I actually apologized—I think. I can't quite remember. But I know I felt like saying the '_s_' word."

"And mortals think their drinking is not an issue." Declan tossed him to the side and Tony collapsed to the floor. Declan turned away. "And here I question why we help the mortal race."

Tony cleared his throat as he scrambled to his feet. "Yeah, we have issues but we're not all bad. Or at least, I don't think so." Why was he making a plea for humanity again?

He watched as Cloak neared the doorway. "Declan, why are you _so_ concerned with Keeva? What is your—" Tony's eyes widened and he gasped softly, causing Declan to turn and raise an eye brow at him.

Stark leaned against the wall as a piece fell into place. "You thought there was something between Keeva and I. You thought we—No, I never did that. I didn't touch her. I know that I have that reputation, but we never—"

Declan's head turned slightly to the right.

"I get it. I know what your issue is. And I get your comment about how we know each other." Tony took a few hesitant steps forward. "Look, I didn't mean to harm her. You have got to know that. You know me. I would never intentionally harm her. And, I'm frustrated and I chose to take it out on her lack of information with me."

"What is it you're getting at, Stark?" he growled.

"I don't know what it's like for you, because I've never dealt with that—thank God. But I know that I would do anything to keep Keevs safe. We both have that interest at heart. Except I don't know what I would do if I couldn't help my daughter because I was chained by laws."

Declan straightened up, his gaze shifting toward the floor.

Tony took another step forward. "Because that's it, isn't it? Keevs is your daughter and you're bound by rules stating you can't help her."

"If you had a child, you would bend whatever laws you could to keep them safe." Declan blinked. "I don't know what was worse though, pretending like I didn't know who she was so I could stay in that facility with her, or having to watch the things they did to her." Declan looked at him. "Be thankful they were not allowed to touch you, Stark."

The silence that washed through the kitchen brought a lull into the room.

Tony felt his shoulders relax and he moved to a stool that stood against the island. He hesitated before changing the subject. "I don't know how the pieces line up. I can't envision them." He looked up over at Declan. "I just—"

"No one can." Declan settled in a stool beside Tony. "No one can see how everything lines up. Possibly Pepper, since she is behind the veil now, but I would not be surprised if even she did not have all the pieces. The only one who knows the entire story is the one who's pulling the strings."

"And that's Conrad."

Declan didn't respond.

Tony rose and walked to the coffee pot. He set to work making a pot.

"You know, Tony. Romanov is back from her stay in hell."

He turned to Declan.

"She may have some answers you're looking for."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony watched as she walked in. Her hair was shorter than he remembered and her look was a lot less stable. In her right hand she gripped her black Glock 26. Her left hand sought out the light switch and she flicked it on.

He winced slightly as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. When he could see again he wasn't surprised to find her gun pointed straight at him. He slowly rose from her lumpy couch.

"Natalie."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He held up his hands. "Little touchy, aren't you?"

"Do you even know what the hell you put me through?"

"Hey! I didn't think that something would happen to you—"

"Why would you send me there?!"

He heard the trigger click as she aimed the barrel at his stomach. This wasn't exactly how he thought she would react; he didn't know she had lost her mind. "Natal—Natasha, I didn't know. I put you in the woods of Forks, Washington. I thought maybe you could meet the Cullens and bring back autographs since Fury likes them."

She shook her head. "No, first I thought I was near Chernobyl or somewhere similar, but then I ended up on some fucking island in some experimental facility thanks to you."

"A facility?" He took a few steps closer, as a brow rose. "What was it like?"

She held her gun steady. "Hell. There were zombies, Slenderman, and other weird things."

"Weird like what?"

"What is your sick fascination with something like that? Is this some sort of fantasy of yours?"

"Not that kind of S and M. But that girl you were after, I saved her from a facility."

Tony watched her lower her weapon and holster it. Her eyes narrowed slightly and her head shifted slightly to the left. "Things that even Hell rejected; that's what existed there. There was this beast with red glowing eyes, it was large—"

"Large, grey, three rows of spikes?"

A brow rose and she nodded.

"A Necrotaur."

Natasha slowly nodded and her eyes studied him.

Well, at least Tony knew he had been right about who the assassin was. "So, your Matrix adventure was fun? Meet any friends?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Get out."

"Did you take the red pill or the blue pill?"

"Get out _now_," she growled.

Tony walked closer. "Easy, Natalie. They're just jokes."

"Says the one who _wasn't_ trapped in the pits of hell!"

_If only she knew. _"I might strongly dislike you, but I'm not that big of an asshole that I'd put you through physical hell." He looked at her. "You weren't the only one attacked, Natasha. My home was blown off the cliff and I was chased by demons."

"I don't want to hear your fucking lies, Stark."

"They're not lies." He shook his head. "I seriously thought you'd end up in Forks, or maybe Seattle and phone Fury for a ride home. I didn't know you would end up at in hell."

She rolled her eyes.

"I do need you to answer a question for me, Natasha. I need to know if you met anyone. Did you meet a girl?"

She looked him up and down before shaking her head. "Get the fuck out, Stark. We're done."

He hesitated. "I need to—"

"I _said_ get the fuck out," she growled and drew her weapon.

Tony held up his hands as he backed into the hallway. "Alright, Natasha. I got it. I'm leaving."

_*TiC*TiC*TIC*_

The cub—wait, she was human now and had been for three weeks—patrolled the corridors. During the past few weeks, Aidan had made sure she was seamlessly integrated into the S.H.I.E.L.D., and its inner workings. How he managed that, she hadn't the slightest, nor was he forthcoming on how he had accomplished it.

Her ears twitched slightly as a pair of feet stumbled next to her. A nameless agent—not exactly nameless she just hadn't bothered to find out who he was—walked next to her. The man had tried several times to start conversations with her, and every attempt had been shot down. He wasn't worth the time—especially since she wanted nothing to do with S.H.I.E.L.D.

"So, are you enjoying these patrols?"

She rolled her eyes at his newest attempt, and became aware of another set of soft footsteps approaching them. Looking up, she watched as the assassin rounded a corner and approached them.

The agent next to her stiffened slightly—_apparently Natalie's a force to be reckoned with?_

"Leave us," Natalie growled at the agent, and he quickly obliged.

"Agent," the cub—_human_—greeted, and bit her bottom lip. What did the assassin want?

"Where did you come from?"

"The eastern corridor."

"Before you made it to S.H.I.E.L.D's payroll."

She was on payroll? She hadn't been told that, nor did it exactly matter. "The facility."

"Before the facility!" Natalie snapped. "Where did you come from?"

It came as quite a shock that the assassin was snippy with her. She shook her head in response, her mouth slightly open and at a loss of words.

"You've only ever been housed in that hell hole?"

She nodded. It wasn't as if telling the truth would help her at this point. "I've been bounced around between a few of them."

"There are more?" Natalie's eyes widened.

She shrugged. "I don't know how many."

The assassin crossed her arms and shifted her weight onto her right leg. "Look, I'm just going to ask. Did you know Tony Stark?"

The world around shifted violently and flipped upside down on her. "No."

"You didn't know Anthony Stark?"

"I've never heard of him." Her chest clenched. She hoped Natalie couldn't see the fact they both seemed to be standing on the ceiling.

The assassin sighed and shook her head. "I thought you might have been—It doesn't matter."

She rubbed the back of her neck, and stiffened her muscles to keep away tremors. "Look, I wanted to thank you for saving me. I never would have gotten out of that place if it wasn't for you."

Natalie looked up, eyes a bit wider than normal. "Likewise... I wouldn't be standing here either if it wasn't for you."

"Can you tell me what happened? I remembering hearing a gun shot after that thing had captured me, and then there was nothing until I woke up a month ago."

"I killed the 'Corrector', grabbed you, got in the boat and rowed to land. I then got in touch with S.H.I.E.L.D., and Aidan came and rescued us. He also took care of your injury." Natalie shifted her stance again. "And I'm also a bit concerned because you never told me your name."

"Oh." She winced, and shook her head. "I'm sorry about that."

"We were both under a lot of stress, I understand. However, I want to know who you really are."

"Who I…" Her eyes widened. "Sorry, I… I'll catch up with you later, Natalie."

She turned and bolted toward Aidan's room, leaving a wide-eyed assassin wondering why she had been called by Stark's nickname for her.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony bit down on a Cheeto, the crunch the only sound in the workshop. As the puff seemingly melted in his mouth, he leaned back on the stool. He had been watching the videos Keeva provided him for days now—even though he should have been working on the Green Project.

His immediate frustration and anger about the situation had lulled when he realized she had done the exact same thing he had. He hadn't told her all the circumstances surrounding Pepper's brutal murder—let alone the other deaths associated. It was a hard pill to swallow, due to the fact his house had been collateral apparently, but Keeva had done nothing worse than he had.

He put another orange puff in his mouth as another video popped up. He picked up the hot-rod red gauntlet in front of him and studied it while she spoke.

"_There's a chance you're irritated by me and these videos by now. It's only payback for all the stuff I put up with while living with you."_

She laughed and he glanced up at her before resuming his tinkering.

"_Seriously though, Tony. I am sorry I couldn't share any of these things with you. I hope one day it will make sense why I didn't—or perhaps you'll correct me on why I was wrong for keeping secrets. That isn't the point though. The point is I can't thank you enough for rescuing me. You gave me a freedom I never dreamed I could have—a life I never thought possible. And I hope that by doing all these things secretly, I can pay you back when the time comes."_

He blinked. She had done all this for him?

"_If you knew that I was moving your armor, or I had bought the tower in Columbus Circle—which just seemed right. I felt like I had been there before, but I haven't been anywhere outside of Malibu or that containment chamber. Anyway, if you knew I had done those things and more, then there's the chance that when Conrad comes he'll know those things and there will be nowhere safe for you._

"_However, if there's one thing I'm sorry about though, it's about not being truthful with you on one aspect. If you're watching this video, I never intended you to. I thought by this point I'd be back with you and I could explain myself in person. But if you're watching this… It's not the case._

"_You see, the only thing I had over Conrad, or anyone in that hell hole was my name. When everything else looked bleak and dark, that was the one thing that gave me power. They could never refer to me by anything other than the names they called me, which means I never had to answer to them. So, even though they thought they held all the cards, I held the only one they really needed._

"_And I held it from you too."_

_*TiC*TIC*TiC*_

She sprinted down the corridors and slammed into Aidan's door, pounding on it with all her might until he opened it.

He smiled softly at her. The twinkle in his eye led her to suspect he knew why she was knocking. "What brings you here, little one?"

She took a few deep breaths, steadying herself. As soon as her mouth opened though, her speech raced. "I get it. I know what you're looking for. You're not asking who I was. You're not asking me to remember. When you're asking who I am, you're not looking for _'I'm Keeva I used to live with the now deceased Tony Stark. I've been an experiment my whole life and nothing more.'_ No, you're looking for who I _am_."

_*TiC*TIC*TiC*_

Tony subconsciously moved to the edge of his seat—the video on the screen now having his full attention. The gauntlet had long since clattered to the floor unnoticed. It was then that he realized it—the lightening brown hair and the blue-grey eyes. She hadn't looked like that at the beginning, and for a moment he paused the video and brought up one picture per month that she had been with him. His eyes widened.

When she had first arrived, she had ratty dark brown hair and dark brown eyes—dead-like almost. As the months passed, her hair had lightened and so had her eyes. He blinked as he processed the change. The more she had thrived in his care, the more she changed—_the more she became herself?_

In the latest video, her eyes and hair seemed to be changing again, but he couldn't tell what color. As he mulled over what it meant, he cleared the screen of pictures, pushed play, and allowed her to continue.

_Her mouth opened and closed several times before she bit her bottom lip as she frowned._

"_Perhaps I can help, miss."_

_She grimaced as a piano played. "Jarvis, n—"_

"_What if I told, who I really was? What if I let you in on my charade?"_

"_Mute," Keeva growled, and relaxed as the music stopped. "No wonder you silence him. He can be tremendously annoying at times." She sighed and blinked._

"_Anyway, you see, when I woke up on your couch, I didn't know where you stood. I was afraid you were working for Conrad, or perhaps some other organization. But then, as time went on, I could have sworn I knew you—which I think you've already assumed. But here's the thing, and why I'm certain we know each other. I've come across many people that have claimed to know me, but none have ever referred to me by my real name. That was until you. You probably don't remember, because the demons were talking to you."_

Tony quirked a brow and bit the inside of his cheek.

_She scratched her right arm, and quickly inhaled. "You were so drunk off your ass at the time, and I was so shocked… Regardless, the only way you would have known my name is Skylar is if we knew each other."_


	36. Days Gets Longer

**Hope your weeks gone well!  
**

**Enjoy and remember to review!**

* * *

—_4 Months Later—_

Standing in front of Aidan's empty room was not how she wanted to start her day off. As she looked in the cold, dark room she saw no sheets on the bed. Entering, she checked drawers only to find them empty—as was the bathroom, and for a while she wondered if she had the right room.

She should have known it was coming. She had sensed the subtle shift. Skylar realized he was teaching her to defend herself and evade, but he had also pulled back on his instruction and let her decide things for herself. She knew he wouldn't be around forever, but she was completely caught off guard when she awoke and found he was gone as if he had never even existed.

As she stood in the doorway of the empty room, her thoughts traced backwards.

"_No, you're looking for who I am."_

"_And who would you be?"_

"_Skylar. My name is Skylar."_

That had started the changes in her life. One being her hair now fell just past her shoulders—which she was extremely thankful for. Two, the chef in the mess hall had been replaced so the food tasted a bit better. And three, Aidan had not only helped her in hand-to-hand combat and evasive maneuvers, but he taught her to shift.

In the quiet moments when no one was near, they had practiced. The concept had been difficult at first. It required a spot in the mind that was completely relaxed—free of worry, stress, fear, anger, and sadness. In the five weeks it took her to calm her mind, Skylar realized how confused, untrusting, and edgy she truly was.

"_Why was I able to change in the midst of fear with the Necrotaur?"_

"_Sometimes instincts force changes so that we may survive to fight another day."_

Aidan always had an answer to everything. When she confronted him about her mental dilemma, he smiled and told her those things would always exist in some part of the mind. It was considered a part of a being's nature.

That had successfully left her confused for an entire week, and when she finally questioned him about it because she couldn't puzzle it out, he laughed. Skylar had frowned and crossed her arms at that.

"_Little one, you are trying too hard to solve easy puzzles. I simply mean that those things will always exist within your mind. What you must do is clear a space free from any emotion whatsoever. There is a spot in your brain that is wired for a change, but right now the rest of your thoughts are cluttering it."_

It had taken her a bit to realize where in the brain it was located. She could have very well picked a random section and hoped for the best, but that wouldn't have necessarily allowed her to change. Instead, Skylar found that searching was a bit like looking for a golf ball in a sea of shaving cream. She was pretty positive that mortals couldn't feel brain waves or sense which part could move their limbs. The sensation was odd and tingly. And slightly frightening.

At times it reminded her of the Operation game children play where the buzzer sounded when metal hit metal—except when she got it wrong, it could stop her heart like it did on one occasion. That had frightened her more than anything after she woke up from the blackout—apparently her brain had some sort of fail-safe because she did wake up.

When Skylar did find it however, she immediately transformed into a cub. After the shift occurred, it left her trapped in her room for a day and a half because she couldn't figure out how to change back. When Aidan showed up, he once again found her highly amusing. Skylar was surprised—and a bit angry—when he refused to change her back, but instead made her figure it out.

She stayed as a cub for three days after that, trying over and over to change back. Why no one came to check on her for her shifts during that time, she had a feeling Aidan had something to do with it. Four and a half days after her initial change—with a screaming stomach that felt like it was eating itself—she shifted back into a human and bolted for the mess hall.

Shifting after that became easier each time she accomplished it. It was much like working her muscles. And when Aidan revealed she was actually using what mortals called magic to make the change, and not exactly a muscle in her mind, she stared at him for a full ten minutes—overly confused and upset he wouldn't provide her with more details.

Now however, in the doorway to the empty room, she realized she was alone once again. All her training seemed to be of no use. She gripped the doorway and looked up as three men ran past muttering something about an incident and rumors about a portal to another world.

Turning, she exited the room and fled back to hers—the slow icing of fear began to grip her by the veins. If someone on the Helicarrier realized she wasn't exactly one of them…

She shook her head and focused on what the men had said. _Portals… _She had told Tony that there were others worlds; at least she had believed so. He agreed to an extent, but the ones she posed he had laughed at. If there was a portal open however, would it lead her to answers about herself? Did she even try for it?

She slammed her door shut behind her and gasped to find a brown package on her bed. Approaching it, she pulled open the folds and was surprised to see clothing inside. Pulling out piece by piece she noticed a long sleeve, long tunic black in color along with slate grey thick leggings. A cowl came out next, followed lastly by soft leather boots. A brow rose. This stuff seemed familiar.

As she shook out the tunic, she watched a small white piece of paper flutter to the ground. Picking it up, she turned it over.

_Skylar,_

_Thought these might help in the coming storm  
provided you remember how to put on clothes.  
Remember, evasion is your best friend right now._

—_Aidan_

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"You won't be here when I get back, will you?"

Declan raised a brow.

Tony dragged his boot across the gantry. It was one of his favorite upgrades to the tower in the fact that it allowed him to simply walk across and have his armor attached to him. He was then free to take off from the launch pad and go about his way. He looked at Declan. "I know you're leaving."

"Do you now?"

Tony nodded. "You're going to do something reckless."

"Well, perhaps it will save your ass again in the end."

Tony shifted. The soft sound of metal sliding against metal broke the silence. Declan had been distant the last few days. In the moments when he thought Tony wasn't looking, he had been sneaking peeks at maps not only from Earth, but a few others Tony couldn't place. That, coupled with the way he had been hounding Tony to make sure his newest armor was ready for battle, gave Tony the feeling something bad was on its way. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you have to do this?" Tony questioned. "Why do you have to leave? I feel like you're trying to get yourself killed. What's the point?"

"We talked about it once."

"Because remembering everything is going _so_ well for me." He rolled his eyes.

Declan chuckled. "You do not understand what a parent will do to keep a child safe."

"Okay, maybe you have a point there," Tony responded, "but why me?"

"Why did I save an arrogant bastard with disrespect for almost everyone?"

It had been rocky and despite saying he would provide answers, Declan had remained mum about Keeva—_Skylar_—being his daughter. The only advice he gave was more of a threat that if Tony ever revealed to her Declan was her father, Stark would face severe consequences—which more or less meant certain death.

Tony nodded in reply.

"First, you're Howard's son and I greatly respected your father." Declan shifted his weight to his other foot. "Second, he took care of Skylar when I couldn't. It's the least I can do to repay him the kindness. Third, I know you do your best when it comes to taking care of my daughter—despite certain short-comings. And lastly, because after everything that has happened, you are like one of my children. When you finally remember, you will understand and know that."

Tony's brow rose and he stiffened. "Wait, I'm not—"

Cloak laughed. "No, I said _like_. You are _neither_ my son nor son in law. Thank the Lord above."

He let out an audible sigh. "Well that's good."

"Agreed, son of Stark. Not that I dislike you but I doubt you'd be able to handle a marriage as you are."

Tony smirked. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Also, those cuffs you're working on." Declan gave him a stern look. "Don't forget you placed them on the bar counter."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Got it, Cloak."

He smiled. "Now go make your building green."

Tony turned and felt the thrusters in his boots ignite. He looked at Cloak. "You'll stay to watch?"

"Of course, Tony."

Tony nodded and his faceplate snapped down. He then rocketed off toward the Atlantic Ocean.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"Light it up, Jarvis."

"Right away, sir."

As he maneuvered through the dark skyscrapers, he came into view of Stark Tower. Starting from the bottom the lights came on by floors until it reached the top. Then five letters lit up reading: STARK.

"How does it look?"

"Like Christmas, but with more me." Tony smiled momentarily before sobering. "Is Cloak gone?"

"Yes, sir. He said to tell you it looks amazing and that he hopes to see you again one day."

"That's provided I can save whatever day he's hoping I'm suppose to save." He shook his head. "How are the levels holding?"

"Steady."

"Of course, I designed it that way." When he neared the tower, he leveled out as he landed on the gantry. As he walked inside mechanical arms pulled away parts of his armor. By the time he reached the door he was relieved of his suit. Tony walked to one the nearest table with a holographic map of the tower and its read outs. There also stood a bottle of champagne and a fluke filled with the bubbly substance.

"Sir, Agent Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D. is on the line."

He grabbed the fluke and bottle on his way to the couch. _Now that's a name I haven't heard in a long time._ "Tell him I'm busy." He took a sip and slumped onto the sofa. As he looked around the tower, he felt proud and yet his chest clenched at the same time. It was something Pepper would have loved.

"Sir, I'm afraid he is insisting."

Tony sighed. "Grow a spine, Jarvis. I don't want to be bothered."

After another swig of Champagne, he pinched the bridge of his nose. It was going to be different having the entire tower to himself. He had grown accustomed to someone always being around. In fact, he hadn't been alone since before he saved Keeva. He wondered where she was now. Jac had told him that she would come back. Well then, where was she?

He sat up when he heard two low beeps over the speakers.

"Sir, the telephone. I'm afraid my protocols are being overridden."

Tony grimaced before searching for his phone. He flipped over a pillow or two. _Where did I put it?_

"Mr. Stark, we need to talk." He heard the phone—heard Coulson speaking through the phone. Now where did he p—He turned to a side table. _There it is._ He picked it up.

"You have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message."

"This is urgent."

"Then leave it urgently." Tony glanced up as the elevator doors opened. In walked a man with a slightly receding hairline, brown in color. He was dressed in a suit and tie, with a light blue button-up shirt. Tony sighed, resumed his slumped position on the sofa and took another sip of champagne. "Security breach."

"Good evening, Mr. Stark."

Tony sipped in reply.

Undeterred, the man—Agent Coulson—walked forward and held out what at first glanced looked like a portfolio. "We need you to look this over as soon as possible."

He glanced at the black rectangle. "I don't like being handed things." When the man didn't respond, Tony drained the glass, reached for the bottle. "Official consulting hours are between eight and five, every other Thursday."

"This isn't a consultation."

Tony refilled his glass and rose from the couch. He didn't want to admit it, but he was slightly intrigued by what was so important. He studied Coulson momentarily before draining the second glass and placing it on the table. He then took the portfolio look-a-like from him.

Turning toward the table in the back, he walked toward it and slid apart the black rectangle apart revealing a glass monitor which connected to the other side of a touch screen keyboard. He glanced back. "I thought the Avenger's Initiative was scrapped? And I didn't even qualify."

Coulson remained silent with a soft smirk on his face.

Once Tony reached the table, he turned. "Apparently I'm volatile, self-obsessed, don't play well with others." He then turned and placed the make-shift computer on the desk.

"This isn't about personality profiles anymore."

"Whatever." He watched as the screen lit up and loaded. Once done, he placed his fingers on the screen and stretched them outwards, sending the information and picture on the screen onto much larger transparent screens—the tech he had included in his house would make anyone jealous. He glanced across the monitors.

On the far left was a man in a picture, but a video of a giant green man he recognized as the Hulk was roaring and fighting. Tony wasn't too surprised. It—_he?_—was more volatile than he was. In the center was a picture of Wing Tips along with a diagram of the shield he carried. Well, if they _were_ being assembled at least Steve made it into the cut.

On the far right stood a picture of a blond man who looked like he was trying out for an L'Oreal commercial. Some giant metal robot was attacking him. As his eyes landed on the bottom right of the man's screen he saw a hammer. Tony's eyes widened slightly and he glanced to the name: _Thor_.

"Well I'll be damned," he muttered. "Keevs was right."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Skylar leaned against a wall, hiding in the shadows, and popped a cheeto in her mouth—being friends with the cooks got you little luxuries in life like the orange and blue bag she held. She watched as a man in a purple shirt was lead through the hallways. His slumped shoulders gave her the impression he tried to hide from people. A brow rose. _If you're trying to hide, you should be more confident._

She trailed the man and Natalie through the hallways.

The room the assassin left the man in a room had several see through glass monitors and a few work stations. Skylar had seen several similar throughout the ship during the last few months to know it was a lab.

As Natalie left the room, Skylar glanced about the halls before entering.

The man immediately spotted her and gazed at her through glasses; the caution in his look was not missed. She cleared her throat, nestled the Cheetos bag against her left hip, and held out her hand.

"Hello. Name's Skylar."

He paused momentarily—questioning motive no doubt. "Do all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents dress as if they belong in Robin Hood?"

_Or he could be questioning my outfit._ She glanced down at the outfit Aidan had given her. "New… task force."

"To find that Loki guy? With a bag of Cheetos? Fury must be low on ideas." He walked over and shook her hand. "I'm Banner."

Despite her momentary reprieve over the outfit, the scrutinizing look in his eye remained. "Doctor Bruce Banner?"

A brow rose. "Yes."

"You're the man who's really good with gamma radiation." She paused. How did she know that?

"Is that all you know of me?"

She swallowed and kept her face straight as her mind began whirling. There _was_ something else she knew about him, but it danced elusively around the tip of her tongue. "Should there be something else I need to worry about?"

He gave a slight shrug. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Skylar."

"The pleasure's all mine. May I…" She hesitated. If she stayed around him, would she remember the rest? "May I be of assistance?"

"Do you know about gamma radiation?"

Skylar shrugged; her head shook as she looked at the ground. "That's not something I'm an expert on."

"Then I'm afraid there's not much you can do to help."

She gave a stiff nod. "Enjoy you work, doctor." She turned, clutched the bag of cheetos in front of her, and her cheeks burned as she made for the door.

"Do you want to learn a little something?"

She paused and looked over her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"I can't teach you about the gamma rays overnight, but I can show you around a lab—_if_ you're willing to share the Cheetos."

The corner of her lips turned up. She walked back over to him, placing the bag on one of the work stations. "I'm not totally oblivious in a lab, doctor."

"You can call me Bruce."

Her lips pursed to the right. That didn't sound right. "Banner?"

"That works, I suppose."

She nodded. "Well, Banner, I've been around a lab before."

"You've been _in_ one?"

"You could say that." She wasn't quite sure that the workshop had been considered a lab, but it came close. Right?

"Did Fury send you to keep an eye on me?"

She glanced toward a black camera in the ceiling—the Helicarrier was covered with them. "He's got those lovely black eyes in the ceiling watching everyone; do you really think he needs me?"

Banner smiled slightly. "I suppose not. But considering what damage I may cause if things were to, uh, get out of hand; I don't think the Big Brother idea is as much help as a living person could be—although it might be safer."

Her lips pursed momentarily. A few weeks ago she had stumbled across a large containment unit installed on another floor. "The large glass containment chamber, that's for you?"

"Containment chamber?"

Skylar walked over to a screen and pushed a few buttons—despite him being dead, the knowledge she'd acquired from Tony was helpful when it came to electronics. A glass containment chamber in another room popped up on the screen. "This."

Banner walked over and studied it. He laughed softly, but there didn't seem to be a tone of humor in it. "It's just like Fury to do something like that." He shrugged, took a Cheeto, and turned back to his work.

Skylar moved across from him, her eyes tracing the lines of his face. Why would there need to be that chamber—? Her eyes widened. Why would she have needed to be in a chamber if not for her little magic trick? "You shape-shift?"

He looked up at her as a brow rose. "Shape-shift?"

"You can change form?"

He stared at her for a few moments before taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Not always by choice."

"But that's what you can do. That's why they have the containment area for you."

"Perceptive aren't you?"

She shrugged. "It's obvious to those who have been in that position before."

He crossed his arms and studied her. "You aren't with S.H.I.E.L.D., are you?"

She shrugged and tilted her head from side to side. "At the moment I am. Or, at least I think I am."

"Are you after the Cube?"

Her brow rose. "You mean like in Transformers?"

"I mean the blue Cube."

"Oh." She shook her head.

"Why are you here?"

"In this room?"

"On the Helicarrier."

She bit her lip and rocked back and forth, heel to toe. He had admitted he was a shape-shifter, so why shouldn't she be honest with him. She blinked and took a breath. "Hiding."

He placed his glasses back on his face. "From?"

She raised her hands. "Short or long list?"

"You have a list?"

She nodded. "S.H.I.E.L.D, the government, mysterious agencies, demons… I mean, you hide from people, don't you? Because you're a shape-shifter?

Banner sighed. "I am burdened with that."

Skylar nodded as her gaze drifted toward the floor. "So am I."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The day seemed to grow even longer as Tony rocketed toward Stuttgart, Germany. He hadn't slept last night—not that he slept much at any time. However, last night had been dedicated to learning about what Fury sent over.

Apparently Fury was attempting to get together a ragtag team in hopes of finding some blue cube called the Tesseract and bringing down a guy named Loki. _Loki, god of mischief._ He shook his head at the thought. However crazy Tony thought the idea was, something had definitely gone down. Reports stated that the Tesseract had opened into a portal bringing through whoever Loki was. Stark was interested to find out more about this theory, and more about the supposed god himself.

Tony had gotten word that Loki was causing chaos in Stuttgart and that Natalie and Steve were trying to handle it. If they thought they were going to fight Loki and not even invite him to the show, they had another thing coming. From the reports he was receiving about their situation, apparently Steve wasn't doing so well on the ground and Natalie couldn't get a lock on Loki from the Quinjet. _That's what they get for not inviting me._

Hacking into the Quinjet's mainframe and turning _'Shoot to Thrill'_ on for Natalie was a piece of cake—for Jarvis.

"Agent Romanov," Tony said, attempting to keep the smirk off his face. "You miss me?"

In moments, he—and by he, it was once again Jarvis—hacked into the PA and turned up the volume so all the citizens of Stuttgart below could hear his grand entrance—along with the man he wanted a closer look at. As he zoomed around on a tall building, he held up both hands and fired a repulsor blast at the insane man who apparently thought the bronze horns on his head were a fashion statement.

"Jarvis, give me a scan of the area. See if anything reads strange." He landed with a flare on his knees and then stood. Holding up a hand with a charged repulsor, and his other arm with a small missile along with little explosive shots on his shoulders, he looked down at the antlered man—Loki.

"Make a move, Reindeer Games."

Tony watched as the armor faded away from Loki and the 'god' held up his hands—Tony's HUD system analyzed the area and the god faster than he could.

"Jarvis?"

"Confirmed, sir."

He blinked as the 'god' looked up at him. Suddenly, his long day seemed more like long months. "Well, I'll be damned."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She had left Banner a few hours ago on her mission to search once more for Aidan—which was fruitless—and eat. After leaving the mess hall, Skylar rounded the corner on the way back to Banner's lab. Her gaze drifted from the metal floor upwards and she froze. For the span of two heartbeats, lead filled her veins. By the third heartbeat she had freed herself and melted into the shadows.

A group of guards passed by, leading a prisoner in the middle. The prisoner had near-paled skin with dark shoulder length hair. His long-sleeve green tunic seemed darker due to a black sleeveless cloak he wore which trailed behind him. The prisoner's black boots clacked upon the metal floor as he passed her, head held high with a slight smirk on his face. _When did he get green eyes and that outfit?_

Skylar trailed the entourage down the hallway and into the room which held the glass cylinder containment chamber. She looked over as a dark-skinned man in a black trench coat with a patch covering his right eye walked to a touch screen panel. Skylar assumed it had to be Fury. In her stint on the Helicarrier, Aidan had kept her from any contact with the man. How that was possible was beyond her, but Aidan had murmured something about stronger types of miracles and magic.

"In case it's unclear," said Fury as he typed on a key board, "if you try to escape. If you so much as scratch that glass…"

From the bottom of the room came the sound of rushing air and the prisoner walked to the glass wall of his cell and looked down.

"…it's thirty-thousand feet, straight down, in a steel trap. You get how that works?" Fury pushed a few buttons and the air stopped moving. He issued towards the prisoner. "Ant." He moved his hands towards the monitor. "Boot."

The prisoner chuckled and she cringed. "It's an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me."

"Built for something a lot stronger than you," Fury confirmed.

"Oh, I've heard." The prisoner turned toward a camera in the ceiling. "A mindless beast. Makes play he's still a man. How desperate are you, that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?"

"How desperate am I?" Fury countered and approached the cage. "You threatened my world with war. You steal a force you can't hope to control. You talk about peace, and you kill because it's fun. That's not even accounting for your games in India and the missile's sent to Malibu—oh yes, I know those too. Considering all this, you have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did."

"Ooh." The amusement dancing in the prisoner's eyes was not missed. "It burns you to have come so close. To have the Tesseract, to have power, unlimited power. And for what?" He smiled and looked at the camera again. "A warm light for all mankind to share? And then to be reminded of what real power is." He looked back at Fury.

"I see that worked out well on your last endeavor considering I've heard your prisoner got lost after your damn facility went down a few months back. I would like to know how you got from there to that portal though." Fury shrugged and moved to exit. "Well, let me know if _real power_ wants a magazine or something."

Skylar shifted further into the shadows as Fury passed her. As he left, she turned back to the man in the cage—her heart racing a hundred miles a minute, and her mind only able to form one question.

_What is Conrad doing here?_


	37. The Devil Said

_A brave man  
is a man who dares to look the Devil in the face  
and tell him he is a Devil._  
_ —James A. Garfield_

Tony stood in front of a silver suitcase contraption with a touch screen monitor popping up. He glanced up as Banner began preliminary studies on Loki's staff—_glow stick of destiny_.

"The gamma readings are definitely consistent with Selvig's reports on the Tesseract, but it's going to take weeks to process," Banner remarked.

Tony pursed his lips momentarily as he touched the glass screen. Apparently Selvig was a friend of Thor—who he'd recently found out was much more alive than the myths portrayed him to be. _Should have listened to Keeva and Declan…_

"If we by pass their main frame and direct route to the Homer cluster, we can clock this around six hundred teraflops." Tony moved a few more things around on the screen then headed towards Banner.

Banner laughed slightly. "All I packed was a tooth brush."

"You know," Tony said as he approached, "you should come by Stark Tower sometime. Top ten floors, all R and D. You'd love it, it's Candy La—" He grabbed a silver instrument off the table, but startled upon seeing a bag of puff Cheetos. He glanced over. "Are you an orange hand culprit?"

Banner looked up. "What?"

"A puff whore. A supporter of Chester the Cheetah—"

"Are you referring to the Cheetos?"

Tony nodded. "What else would I be discussing?"

Banner looked at him with a brow raised. "It's… considered a treat if I can have something like that."

"Well, it's another thing I keep in the tower, along with pretty much any other treats you're craving. I'm telling you, it's like Candy Land—literally in some ways."

"Thanks, but…" Banner looked up as Tony walked up to him. "The last time I was in New York I kind of broke… Harlem."

"Well, I promise a stress free environment." Stark moved behind him with the silver instrument in his hand. "No tension. No surprises." He poked Banner in the side with the instrument which created a shock.

"Ow!" Banner turned to him, his eyes the same normal brown.

"Hey!" A voice from the doorway echoed throughout the room.

"Nothing?" Tony questioned Banner as he internally cringed. _Great, Wing Tips has made it to the party._

"Are you nuts?"

"Jury's out." Tony glanced over as Steve entered—in his blue costume with the white star in the middle—before turning back to Banner. "You really have got a lid on it, haven't you? What's your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of weed?"

"Is everything a joke to you?" questioned Steve.

"Funny things are."

"Like the note you left in D.C.?"

"I told you I'd explain when I got a chance."

"And in five months you found no time?"

Banner glanced between them. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No," responded Tony, "this is just a conversation that needs to be saved for when we're not bunking with Fury."

"So," Steve continued, "you're saying it was okay that you just left in the middle of the night with a vague _note_ saying you've taken off with Jac—"

"I said this isn't the place."

"How did you _even_ get here?"

Tony turned to Banner. "You're tip-toeing, big man. You need to strut."

He could feel the daggers Steve glared at him. "And you need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark."

"Which one might that be?" Tony questioned as he set down the silver instrument and grabbed a small silver bag of blueberries from another table. "The psycho that's in lock up, the fact I left you in D.C., or why Fury waited until now to call us in? Why now? Why not before? What isn't he telling us? I can't do the equation unless I have all the variables."

"Is that why you don't know what happened to your playmate?" Steve questioned then winced.

Tony stiffened, and remained silent.

Steve sighed. "You think Fury's hiding something?"

He opened the bag, and breathed out. "He's a spy. Captain, he's _the_ spy." He popped a few blueberries in his mouth, then issued towards Banner. "It's bugging him, too. Isn't it?"

"Uh…" Banner looked up from where he had been keeping quiet studying the staff. He shook his head and waved his hands. "I just want to finish my work and…"

Steve's brow rose slightly. "Doctor?"

Banner sighed as he glanced to Tony, then around the room before removing his glasses and looking down in thought. "A warm light for all mankind, Loki's jab at Fury about the Cube."

"I heard it." Steve nodded.

"Well, I think that was meant for you." Banner pointed toward Tony.

Stark held out his blueberries in response.

Banner took a blueberry. "Even if Barton didn't tell Loki about the tower, it was still all over the news."

"The Stark Tower?" Steve questioned. "That big, ugly—"

Tony raised his eye brows in response.

"—building in New York."

"Hang on. If you knew about my tower in New York, you obviously knew where I went, Wing Tips. I don't know why you're still so upset about it. You knew I was demoing that _big, ugly building_."

"I thought it was a project your company was undertaking. I didn't think you were actually there."

"And yet you still thought it was grotesque." Tony glowered.

"It's powered by an arc reactor," Banner cautiously cut in, "a self sustaining energy source." He looked up at Tony. "That building will run itself for, what, a year?"

"It's just the prototype." Tony sighed and looked at Steve. "I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now. That's what he's getting at."

Steve raised an eye brow as a look of understanding passed across his face. His shoulders relaxed slightly. "So you finished it then?"

Tony nodded.

Banner continued, "So why didn't S.H.I.E.L.D. bring him in on the Tesseract project? What are they doing in the energy business anyway?"

Steve looked at Stark. "Do you think that's why they were looking into—"

"I should probably look into _all_ of that once my decryption program finishes breaking into all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secure files." Tony pulled out his phone and checked it as he approached Steve.

Steve stiffened. "I'm sorry. Did you say—"

"Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours I'll know every dirty secret S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever tried to hide." He stopped in front of Steve, put his phone in his pocket and held out the blueberry bag. "Blueberry?"

"Yet you're confused about why they didn't want you around? What if they could have saved—"

"An intelligence organization that fears intelligence?" Tony cut in. "Historically, _not_ awesome."

Steve tensed slightly. "I think Loki's trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed. We have orders. We should follow them."

"Following's not really my style." Tony popped a few blueberries in his mouth.

"And you're all about style, aren't you?"

Tony cocked an eye brow. "Of the people in this room, which one is A, wearing a spangly outfit, and B, not of use?"

"Steve," interrupted Banner, "tell me none of this smells a little funky to you."

Steve pursed his lips slightly and looked from Banner to Tony. "Just find the Cube."

As Rogers moved toward the door, he paused and tilted his head. He glanced back at Tony. "You brought Cheetos?" He looked around. "Anyone around I should know about?"

Tony shook his head. "No."

"Did you leave him, too?" Steve left without waiting for a reply.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony was seated on one of the tables, looking at a monitor but not really seeing it. He had long since finished the blueberries and had started on the Cheetos. In hindsight, not telling Steve anything for the last five months probably wasn't the friendliest thing to do, but it's not that he wanted company in that time—apart from Declan who mostly left him alone anyhow.

He had a house to put together, the Green Project to finish, armor to get back in order—and a new one to make. He probably should have been more concerned about where Keeva had gone, but Jac had said she would come to him. However, considering the events on the Quinjet after they had picked up the psychotic Conrad A.K.A. Loki, the god of mischief—_what are the chances?_—it probably should have been a bigger concern of his.

_He stood in the Quinjet next to Captain America. The tension between them only grew worse with each passing moment. Several times Stark glanced to Natasha in the cockpit to see if she could feel the awkward moment, but if she did, she didn't let on._

_He glanced over at the prisoner who was supposedly some god, Loki. He scoffed._

'_Loki' looked thinner, more pale, and his eyes were now in the blue-green category. Despite those traits, he'd remember Conrad—or Loki—any day. Having his reactor ripped out of his chest by the mad man was an intimate moment that could never be forgotten._

_Fury wanted to interrogate Loki; Tony wanted revenge._

"_I don't like it," Steve said softly._

_Tony startled slightly. They hadn't spoken since entering the jet—Steve was most likely still upset over D.C. "What? Rock of Ages giving up so easily?"_

"_I don't remember it being that easy. This guy packs a wallop."_

"_Still, you are pretty spry for an older fellow."_

"_Don't start with me, Stark."_

_Tony sighed and looked at him. "Wing Tips, what if I told you that was Conrad?"_

_Steve's brow rose and he glanced over at the prisoner. "Him?"_

_Stark nodded._

"_But he doesn't look like the man from the video."_

"_If you're going to confer about me, you do not have to pretend like I am not here, man of iron."_

_Tony and Steve turned to look at Loki. Steve then turned back to Stark._

_Tony's eyes narrowed slightly as he took a few steps toward Loki. "Great set-up you've had over the past few years. I see that evil villain thing has really worked out in your favor—jail time and all."_

_Loki looked at him; a thin smile crossed his lips. "It pains you not to know where she went, doesn't it? The knowledge of not knowing what happened to her. The fear of how long she's been tortured for."_

_Tony glanced over him. "You didn't seem to come out on the fun side of the torture house considering the weight loss and lack of Vitamin D look. A tanning bed might do you some good."_

"_Do you know she pleaded? And begged? Her screams echoed through the facility on more than one occasion."_

_Tony heard the soft whine of the repulsor in his right hand as it started up and he clenched his fist. "You're lying, and here's why. After all the time spent with her, she wouldn't do that. She bottles everything inside. You're wrong."_

"_You knew her for a year."_

"_Says you."_

_Steve put his hand on Tony's shoulder; his voice dropped to a whisper near his ear. "You need to stop this pointless arguing. He's trying to get to you."_

_Tony turned and walked to the other side of the aircraft followed by Steve._

"_I am curious, man of iron."_

_He glanced at Loki._

"_How did she save your life?"_

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Skylar hadn't moved from where she settled in the vents. She watched her former captor pace back and forth as if waiting for something. She was certain it wasn't the presence of Natalie showing up and interrogating him. She tensed slightly. The assassin had saved her from hell, but both of them were now dealing with the devil.

As Natalie left the room, Skylar turned her attention back on the man in the glass cage—_ironic that the captor is now a captive. _She cast a glance about the room. There were no guards—which was odd. Shifting the vent grate, she climbed out and dropped to the ground. Quietly, she walked to where he paced. In a fluid motion, he spun towards her, halting her approach. His now green-blue eyes bore into hers. A small smirk washed over his face.

"Ah. Today is just full of surprises. All of them good."

Skylar felt a chill run up her spine as ice froze her veins. The man that had tormented her and caused her so much grief over the years still continued to frighten her like the boogeyman. She swallowed. No one was here to turn on the light this time.

His eyes watched her every move—or lack thereof—looking for a reaction from her. His smirk faded. "Years inside a cage very similar to this seem to have made you very docile—like a startled deer, always fleeing, always hiding."

Skylar felt herself recoil. He had always spoken in a smooth way knowing exactly how to twist and turn each remark into something favorable on his part. "It was not of my own accord that I was held in such a state."

"No, indeed not. None the less, it is good to finally learn you escaped. I feared you dead in their clutches. That subject has been haunting me these past few months. You have questions haunting you also, do you not?"

"You believed that I could not escape?"

"I feared not even after I removed that chip which hindered your powers. You did not seem capable in the state you were in."

Skylar flinched. "I seem to recall being out most of the time and unable to perform any task you wished of me. How would you know what I was capable of?"

Conrad shrugged. "That is a fine query. How would I know? You are not as secretive or as concealed as you would like to come off, cub."

"Cub?"

"You think I am unfamiliar with your transformation?"

Her eyes widened and she tensed as her mouth dropped.

"It is impolite for a woman to gape."

"H-how did you know?"

"You've buried your proper appearance for years. I was very aware of it. Amora was not. However, that begs another question. Does anyone know the genuine you: the form of which you were birthed? You look familiar, that I am sure of."

A brow rose as she scratched her right arm. What did he mean?

"Old habits die hard, I see." He nodded toward her scratching twitch. "Tell me, how do you feel without that metal trinket in your arm? Better I assume since you are able to heal faster and use that which you have been gifted with."

Skylar took a deep breath and approached the glass. She straightened up and pulled her shoulders back. "I'm tired of your lies."

"How do you know them to be lies? From what I know, you have no recollection of your past."

"You know what I find interesting, Conrad—or is it Loki? I find it interesting that you took that piece out of my arm and then claim to think I died in that place. You would have known I escaped if you were around, so where have _you_ been? Where _did_ you go?"

He smiled and took a few steps back. "Now that's an interesting tale."

"One you have no answer for?" She pressed her fingers against the glass and with a soft breath out she stepped through and into the chamber.

"Well, isn't that something? When you aren't focused on magic, you can perform it."

"Where were you, Conrad?" she questioned again. "What have you been doing?"

"Tell me how you created the arc reactor?"

She paled.

"You did not think I'd find out? You're terrible at hiding things." He took a step forward. "And you also are out of tricks unless you were taught things beyond the ability to walk through glass and transform."

Skylar knew he was toying with her, prolonging their conversation. If he wasn't going to be forth coming about his whereabouts—_who had he been hurting?_—then she would ask more pertinent questions. "Why?"

Loki turned his head to the side and paused. "Why what?"

"Why did you do this to me? Why have you tortured me for so long?"

He stepped forward and looked down on her. "You were made to be experimented on. You are nothing more than some test subject that the realms can poke and prod. There is nothing special about you."

Skylar shook her head. "If there was nothing special about me, _Loki_, then you wouldn't have caged me nor tortured me."

"Enough," he growled and shoved her against the glass. "You have blood on your hands, much more than that simpleton you took refuge with."

She pushed him back. "And you're trapped in here where those mortals you dislike will have you stand trial for your crimes."

Faster than she could deflect, he slammed her against the glass, pinning her to it. She gasped.

"You expect these mortals to save you, to protect you? They are not strong enough—not for what is coming. They easily walk into traps due to their need for power and conquest."

She took a few breaths, trying to relax and pass back through the glass. "They'll stop you. You will not rule this world like you think."

"You insolent beast!" Conrad growled as he moved a step back. He smashed her head into the glass, causing her to cry out. "You would do well to remember that I will be king. I am a king!"

She felt her eyes flutter shut for a moment and the next thing she knew, she was laying on the ground outside the containment chamber. Skylar felt a throbbing in her head and something warm trickle down her forehead and cheek. She fought to stand—slamming into the railing on her way up. Her fingers wrapped around the metal as she looked at the ground.

Her voice was a whisper. "This will catch up with you."

"You threaten me with talks of karma? What about when you remember what you have done? Will sparing these mortals even out the deaths you've caused?"

Skylar pulled herself to her feet. When did the chamber start spinning? Her stomach attempted to heave up Cheetos and the lunch of rigatoni and meat sauce. When was the last time she slept?

Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Conrad chuckle. "You are not safe here, cub. The mortals think they are hidden in this craft. They brought the tracker with them."

She looked back at Loki, blood smeared across the glass in front of him. His eyes slightly widened as he studied her.

"Well, now. This is something I didn't expect." He tilted his head to the right slightly. "However, it does make sense now. I didn't know you were Lady Skylar. There will be much rejoicing in the halls of Asgard when they receive word you are alive."

"I don't…" She stumbled backwards. She had to get to… _who?_ "I'm not from Asgard."

"No, you are not. But they will still be merry when tidings reach them. _Returned from the halls of Valhalla_, they will sing."

She shook her head and made for the doorway, swaying into a wall. She had to get to…Banner. Maybe he could help her—if only she knew where Natasha went.

"You have been hunted for many years by many forms of life in every galaxy. Did you know this?"

She paused in the doorway and looked at him, her curiosity winning over her headache. Loki's attitude was light, carefree. His voice was low and smooth, captivating her and keeping her hanging onto every word, enticing her at every turn. "Do you know why they hunt you?"

Skylar shook her head.

"Allow me to tell you then. You see, they believe that a power greater than even the Tesseract is held within a single being. This being is able to travel to any world they wish. No bridges, no Bifrost, no dark magic, just by a simple thought."

"But there are beings that can already do that. It's not limited to only one person."

"Yes, but with the way the realms have changed, they have forgotten this."

She turned from him as the walkway seemingly moved beneath her feet. His words weren't making any sense. And for being able to heal quickly, she was having trouble getting over what was probably a concussion. She had to make it to Banner.

* * *

**Hello lovely readers. Hope your week is going well.  
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	38. Devil in the Details

**Hello lovely readers! Hope everything's going well. Life is SUPER chaotic.**

**As a note next weeks may be released either early or late. At work there's field day on Thursday, along with the Iron Man 3 premiere that night (anyone else?), and I have a 12 hour shift the following day. I'll try to get it out Wednesday.**

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* * *

"_Hello there,  
__the angel from my nightmare  
__The shadow in the background of the morgue  
__The unsuspecting victim  
__of darkness in the valley...__"  
_—_Blink 182, I Miss You__  
_

Skylar stumbled down the hallways, swaying into cold metal walls on her way back to Banner's lab. On more than one occasion she had to swallow back whatever her stomach wanted to chuck up.

Loki had said something about a tracker. Someone or something on the Helicarrier was giving a location. That explained why Loki wasn't concerned about being caught. Why was he targeting the Helicarrier though? There was no point if he had the Tesseract. Her brow furrowed. _Unless it was a distraction._

Skylar slammed into a wall and collapsed to her knees. Black dots filtered into her vision. A small whimper left her throat. If the carrier was attacked, she would be defenseless in the hall. She had to get back to Banner—or find Natalie along the way. They could protect her. She shook her head. Why was she always in these situations? Why did she always need someone?

Forcing herself to her feet again, she felt the world sway under her. _One step after another, one breath after another…_ Why wasn't she healing? Isn't that what she did? In the facility she healed after cutting herself on glass. Had the zombie bite disabled that ability?

Arriving at Banner's designated lab made her cringe. The place was full of swirling faces and between the whistling in her ears, the black dots, and their arguing she almost vomited and passed out. As she entered the door, beeping screamed in the background and white began to fuzz the edges of her vision.

She searched for Banner and found him in the corner studying a screen. "Banner?"

The room silenced as he looked over.

"What the _hell_ happened to you?"

Her eyes searched for the familiar feminine voice that spoke.

Skylar inhaled sharply and stumbled into a cabinet next to her. She glanced at it. "Sorry." She then looked back at the assassin. "Hi, Natalie. I was hoping to… Banner, or you."

"Are you okay?" The assassin took a few steps forward.

"Oh yeah. I should heal at some point, I have that ability." She shook her head, and placed a hand to her hand. When she pulled her fingers away, her eyes widened in surprise. "Hey, look! I'm bleeding."

"Agent Romanov, who the hell is this?" Skylar squinted. Her eyes settled on the dark skinned man a few feet from her. _Fury…?_

Natalie glanced at him. "We escaped the facility together, sir."

"And you didn't think that mentioning _this_ damn detail was important?"

Skylar held up her hands and leaned into the cabinet as she spoke slowly. "It's okay, man with only one eye. I know her."

"Lady Skylar? You are among the living?"

She swallowed roughly in hopes of keeping her stomach contents down and looked at the blond man addressing her—why did he have on armor? And why were his muscular arms showing? She looked at Fury and shook her head. "I don't know him."

"Will someone tell me what the hell is going on here?" snapped Fury.

Banner took a few steps toward her. "What did you need, Skylar?"

"Banner." She smiled. "I've been looking for you. I was hoping to—Loki… He's Conrad." Her eyes glanced to the right at another dark blond in a blue shirt. She slouched against the cabinet. "Steve. How are you?"

Skylar was startled when she saw Natalie in front of her. She felt the assassin's fingers on her chin, tilting her head from side to side. "Hi, Natalie. Can you get rid of these black flies? And whoever is fucking whistling?"

"What happened?" Natalie asked.

She took a breath. "Loki. I went through the glass. Like I did in Malibu. It was nice living by the ocean. Loki bashed my head against the glass. Did you know I'm bleeding?"

Natalie walked back to Fury. "It's a concussion."

"You _don't_ say," he retorted.

The assassin looked back to her. "What are you trying to tell Banner?"

A brow rose as her gaze shifted around the room. "Is he here? He needs to know that Loki's using some tracker to find this pla—" She stiffened and blinked. The dark hair and goatee to Steve's left caused the world to shift and she fell backwards into the wall. "Do you see dead people during a con-concussion?"

That's when the first explosion rocked the room.

_*TiC*TiC*TIC*_

"Keevs?"

A tremble ran through her body as she coughed up smoke. She struggled to breathe. Smoke billowed around her, attempting to fill her lungs. She lashed out, trying to move what landed on her. A whimper escaped her throat. _Not the nightmares..._

"Keeva?" The voice whispered at her ear again.

Coughing, she blinked and looked up—smoke beginning to burn her eyes, causing them to water. The ghost was looking down at her with wide eyes and slightly opened mouth.

"Are you okay?"

_I'm dead. _The sound of her own gasping filled her ears as she shook her head. He sat up and pulled her to her knees. His eyes searched her face and glanced over her body. She felt his fingers move across her face and body. Jagged breaths ran past her lips. _I'm dead._

"You're dead," she whispered. Her teeth chattered and body trembled. The pounding in her head increased. Skylar leaned sideways as her stomach heaved. Her hands trembled as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve.

The ghost shook his head as he stood and pulled her to her feet. The world swayed under her and she fell into him. He steadied her. "Does it feel like I'm dead? Do dead people save the living?"

She wasn't sure what came next. The world seemed to black out for small fragments of time. At some point she felt another person take her. Apparently the dead was going to suit up and take care of whatever happened. Her legs locked and she refused to move.

"Tony?" she whispered and saw him look back at her. Her brow furrowed as her body swayed backward. "Don't die again."

A smirk crossed the ghost's lips. "Do I look like I can die, Keevs? I'm the _invincible_ Iron Man."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

When she awoke, she was laying on a hard, cold gurney in a frigid metal room. The last thing she recalled was the dead man telling her he was alive. The unforgiving darkness had enveloped her immediately afterwards.

The pounding of her heart reminded her of a hummingbird's wings. Her breath came in small gasps. _Stark? Alive? _How had he survived? She had to get up.

The pounding in her head had resided somewhat, but when she opened her eyes the white lights in the room brought the headache back. After shielding her vision, she sat up. Yawning, her eyes looked around. She didn't see any guards nor medical assistants. Her limbs stiffened momentarily. Where was she?

Rising off the gurney, she moved to the door. Her brow rose as she turned the handle and the door clicked open. She peek down the hallway before moving out of the room and traversing through the corridors. Agents rushed past in pairs seemingly oblivious to her. A puzzled look spread across her face. _What's going on?_

Her next thoughts went towards Conrad and despite her fear of him, Skylar made her way to where the glass containment chamber was.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Stark stood with hands behind his back, staring down where the glass chamber had exited. The last few hours had been a real test of if he was back in the game or not. Once he had let the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent take Keeva—_or was it supposed to be Skylar now?_—away, he had gone to fix engine one so the Helicarrier didn't crash. After almost dying in the process, he then found out that Coulson had died. Apparently Coulson had gone after Conrad—_Loki_—to keep the psycho from escaping. If Tony didn't know any better, he'd start thinking he was the grim reaper.

If he could process through the latest death, or attempt to, then perhaps he could deal with the fact that Keeva had been with S.H.I.E.L.D. the entire time. He grit his teeth.

"Was he married?"

Tony was vaguely aware that Steve had entered the room and stood in another corner. "No. There was a cellist, I think."

"I'm sorry. He seemed like a good man."

He looked over at Cap. "He was an idiot."

"Why? For believing?"

"For taking on Loki alone."

"He was doing his job."

Tony scoffed and moved toward Steve. "He was out of his league. He should have waited. He should have…"

"Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony."

"Right, I've heard that before." He walked past Steve.

"Is this the first time you lost a solider?"

He spun towards him. "We are _not_ soldiers." He paused as the silence radiated in the room. "And you know he's not the first one I lost either. Also, Jac… was killed. Defending me."

Steve's gaze lowered to the ground, then back to Stark. "I'm sorry."

Tony shook his head. "Jac wanted to leave D.C. that night. And something about leaving felt right. He took me on the train all the way to New York. He led me to the tower. The next day he was gloomy, so we went to Central Park. We were attacked that night and rescued by Declan, but Jac died saving me."

"You finally remembered Cloak's name?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Wing Tips. I did."

Steve's attention was drawn to something behind Tony. He cleared his throat. "I'll let you have a few minutes." He turned and walked out, passing Keeva as he left.

The slight glaze over her eyes—now jade in color, just like Declan's—explained she still hadn't fully recovered from the concussion. They scanned the room, looking at everything but him. On the bright side, her head wound had healed—_she said she could heal, right?_ She ran a hand through her shoulder length dark golden hair—he wished it were longer—and then scratched her right arm. He eyed her clothes and wondered what it was with the traveling outfits on people lately.

"Are you joining the quest for the one ring?"

She glanced up at him and shrugged. When she spoke there was something off—a slight cold undertone he had never heard before. "I could be."

Tony stood waiting for her to say something else. She had to be questioning how he was alive, what he had been up to. When she said nothing however, he crossed his arms and looked at her. "So, are we back to square one?"

She studied the floor. "You're dead, aren't you?"

"I suppose that's a safe thing to think. If this thing with Loki doesn't turn out so well I might as well be."

She looked up at him. No smile lit her face.

"Eesh. I'm kidding, Keevs. I'm not dead."

She studied him for a few seconds before she yawned. He watched her move to a railing and hop up to sit on it. "I thought you were dead."

Tony walked over to her. "The whole time?"

She nodded.

"Don't you know I'm like a cat? I have nine lives."

"And how many do you have left?"

"I've been collecting one-ups. I'll be fine for a while."

He watched a soft smile appear at the edges of her lips—and a flicker of life came to her face. His fingers moved to the dry blood on her forehead. He wiped a few pieces away. "Why are you always in these dangerous situations when I'm around? It's like Princess Peach. She's completely worthless."

"Are you saying I'm worthless?"

"Don't twist my words."

"I just got compared to an annoying princess."

"I didn't say Keeva _is_ Princess Peach."

Her smile grew slightly. She then leaned somewhat to the left; he moved his arm to the railing, prepared to catch her if she fell.

"You okay, Keevs?"

She nodded and yawned. "You would be bored with no one to rescue—oh wait, you didn't rescue me from Bowser's Castle."

"Well, I didn't know you'd be lost in Zombieland with Romanov." Tony watched her eyes droop slowly shut.

She glanced at her left arm. "Apparently I needed more Cardio."

He gently took her hand and pulled up her left sleeve. "But that's rule number one, Keevs. We've talked about this. I'm buying you an elliptical and putting you on it for eight hours a day. You'll be able to run from Canada to the tip of South America by the time you've finished training."

She laughed once, and watched his fingers move across her smooth skin. He watched her shoulders slump. "I… I was bitten."

He looked at her. "By an actually zombie?"

"It wasn't _just_ a zombie." Her fingers brushed against his as she traced a circle where the bite had apparently been. "Some zombies are infected with demon toxin."

"Ah, demons. I've become great friends with them recently. I didn't know you dealt with them too."

He watched as her eyes rose to meet his. "I dealt with a lot of things I wish I didn't."

"A lot of things you probably _shouldn't_, Arwen."

Her eyes dropped to his chest. They grew distant as if she saw something else in her mind's eye. "I would be Eowyn now."

"You're not blonde enough." Tony's brow rose as she reached out and tapped his reactor. Her fingers then slid up to the left side of his face. He winced as they came across a bruise on his cheekbone.

"What happened?"

"I got mugged."

Her head tilted to the side as her attention became more focused again.

"I was saving the Helicarrier, Keevs. I almost became part of engine one in the process."

She yawned again as her fingers gently brushed down the side of his face and dropped to the railing. He stiffened slightly. Something wasn't right. Her reactions felt wrong—_distant_. He wondered if it was caused only by the concussion.

"Keevs," he said slowly, "I'm glad you're alive."

She looked at him. "I'm glad I'm alive, too."

He stiffened. Her eyes weren't just glazed, nor was she remembering past events. Her eyes were lost. The fight in them was missing—_the glimmer, the life…_ "Keeva—"

Keeva suddenly glanced over his shoulder. Tony turned to follow her gaze. His face sobered and he swallowed roughly. He was surprisingly thankful that Wing Tips returned when he did.

"Welcome back, Steve. How have you been?" Her voice remained soft with lower, cold tones.

"I've been well, and you?"

"Alive." She nodded.

Tony cleared his throat. "I'm not marching to Fury's fife."

Steve paused, his eyes glancing between Tony and Keeva, a worried crinkle in his brow. When his eyes settled on Stark, he took a small breath. "Neither am I. He's got the same blood on his hands that Loki does. But right now we've got to put that behind us and get this done."

Stark glanced about, finding something else to focus on. He looked towards a wall streaked dark red—_Coulson's blood_. He stiffened.

"Now Loki needs a power source," Steve continued, "If we can put together a list—"

Tony looked up at Steve. "He made it personal."

"That's not the point."

"That is the point. _That's_ Loki's point. He hit us all right where we live. Why?"

"To tear us apart."

"Yeah, divide and conquer is great, but he knows he has to take us out to win, right?"

Keeva looked at him. "That's why he attacked Malibu. He wanted to make sure you didn't come back, that you couldn't come after me. And while he was after me, he was _also_ after the reactor."

Tony pursed his lips. _Why the reactor?_ "Did he tell you this, Keevs?"

"He asked about the reactor. How I managed—" Her eyes widened slightly. "He knew you were alive..."

Tony walked up a few steps and paused on another platform. Truth be told, he was just as curious as Loki was about how she had managed such a feat. Her reasons on the videos had been vague at best, but she explained that power could be transferred and if allowed to charge would be out as powerful as the reactor.

It had been like splitting a cell in a way. He had managed to divert some of the power from his reactor into another source and after a few days it had grown to be as powerful as his. Now, coupled with the steady source of the previous reactor, the RT running the tower would hold out. He didn't remember it being that way though. The process should have been easier.

Tony shook his head. "He wants to beat us; he wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience."

"Right," Steve said. "I caught his act in Stuttgart."

"Yeah, that's just previews. This is opening night. And Loki's a full-tilt diva, right? He wants flowers, he wants parades. He wants a monument built to the skies with his name plastered…" Tony paused. "Son of a bitch."

He hopped down the steps and pulled Keeva off the railing. He then glanced to Steve. "I know where Loki's going. Tell the others to suit up. I'll be there soon."

Steve eyed Keeva before giving a hesitant nod and jogging off.

Tony led Keeva down the hallways. "Where's your room, Keevs?"

She had leaned into him and he looked down to see her head lull forward, followed by her body. He caught her as she startled awake. Tony picked her up. Her half-lidded eyes gazed up at him.

"Keeva, where is your room?"

Keeva turned her head to look down the hallway. "Straight, next right, and it's the third door on your left."

As he carried her down the corridor, he felt her body go limp in his arms. He knew he shouldn't be leaving her in the room alone, but she had mentioned that healing factor she had, and he banked on that to help her. If he didn't get to Loki soon it might be too late.

He struggled to get the door to her room open. When he finally got inside the small, plain room, he winced. She had been living with next to nothing. As he placed her on the scratchy sheets, he cast another glance about the area.

Tony had always done his best to give her the world. He had given her a safe place to stay and made sure she was fed and clothed. If she needed something, he had provided it; he'd even made sure she could call the tower home.

And now here she was with something—in his view–subpar. As soon as Loki was taken care of, he would be back for her. That room in Stark Tower was not about to go to waste—and she could order as many bags of Cheetos as she wished.

She startled awake and looked up at him. "You're leaving?"

"I have to, Keevs. Loki's still out there." He grabbed a blanket at the edge of her bed and laid it over her. "I'll be back for you. And then you can finally come home."

The right side of her lips tugged downward. "Please don't die."

"I already told you I can't die. I have too many one-ups."

After a small nod, her head lulled to the side and her eyes shut.

Tony rose from the bed and moved to leave. He tensed when he saw the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent from earlier standing in the doorway.

"Okay, stalker, what do you want? An autograph?"

"Do you want me to watch over her for you, Mr. Stark?"

Tony looked the man up and down. The agent had given his name the first time. "Jet, right? If I come back and she's harmed in any way, you _will_ regret it. Is that clear?"

The man's eyes grew wide as he nodded fiercely. "Yes, sir."

"Good. And try not to hover or I'll file a restraining order on you." Tony then took off to suit up.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Half an hour later, Tony was walking across the gantry on the tower which relieved him of the beaten-down Mark VI, and he braced himself for a conversation with Loki. He sighed as he attempted to puzzle through how to shut down the Tesseract on the roof—it was only a matter of minutes before it opened a portal to another dimension and once again he found himself wishing he had asked Declan more questions. However, he did piece together that this was what Declan must have been hinting at.

Tony walked into his house as Conrad—_Loki_ entered from the balcony.

Loki looked at him. "Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity."

If appealing to his humanity was throttling him for all the damage he had caused in his life, then Tony was definitely going to appeal to that. With hands behind his back, he walked in and paused. "Actually, I'm planning to threaten you."

Loki—complete with that jewel encrusted stick of his—walked closer. "You should have left your armor on for that."

"Yeah," Tony replied as he moved toward the bar. "It's seen a bit of mileage, and you've got the glow stick of destiny." He watched as Loki smiled down at the staff—_he's compensating for other things._ "Would you like a drink?"

He chuckled. "Stalling me won't change anything."

"No, no, threatening," Tony replied as he walked behind his bar and reached for the Scotch. If he couldn't sleep before the impeding battle, he might as well drink something. "No drink? Are you sure? I'm having one."

"Are you sure you want to be intoxicated while threatening me?"

"You'd be surprised what I can do while I'm drunk." He pulled a bottle from the shelf and looked at Loki. "Tell me in the mean time. How did you earn the name Conrad?"

"How did you find the girl when she was in my care?"

Tony's brow rose as he walked to the counter, grabbing a glass on his way.

"Answer one, you will learn the other." Silence enveloped the room when Tony didn't answer. Loki walked to the window and looked out onto the park. "The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that. What have I to fear?"

"The Avengers." Tony uncapped the Scotch and looked over at Loki. The god raised a brow. "That's what we call ourselves. It's sort of like a team. _Earth's Mightiest Heroes_—type thing." He poured the Scotch into a glass. As long as he kept Loki occupied…

The god moved back toward Stark. "Yes, I've met them."

Tony chuckled. "Yeah. It takes a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one. But let's do a head count here. Your brother, the demigod." Loki clenched his teeth and looked out the window. Tony reached for one of two silver bracelets Declan had reminded him of. "A super solider, living legend; who kind of lives up to the legend." He slipped the first bracelet on, and reached for the second. "A man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins, and you, big fella, you've managed to piss off every single one of them."

"That was the plan."

He took a sip of Scotch. It burned on the way down. "Not a great plan. When they come—and they will—" he said moving toward Loki, "they'll come for you."

"I have an army."

"We have a Hulk."

Loki looked puzzled momentarily—Stark wanted to punch the confusion off his face. "I thought the beast had wandered off."

Tony shook his head as he started on a new problem. Why did Loki piss them off when he was only going to lose? "You're missing the point—like always it seems. There's no throne. There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it." He took another sip.

"Like _you_ protected the girl?"

Tony felt his muscles lock.

Loki walked toward him. "Regardless, how will your friends have time for me when they're so busy fighting you?" The glow stick of destiny touched the middle of his chest. A _ting_ sounded through the room.

"This usually works." Loki touched the tip of the staff to Stark's chest again.

Tony shrugged and placed the glass on a table. "Well, performance issues, it's not uncommon. One out of five—" Stark gasped as Loki grabbed him by the throat and held him up. And once again he was in the same situation: dangling and trying to breathe. He made a mental note not to tell Keeva, or he would never live it down. "Well, this is familiar."

"Is it?"

"Yep." He struggled to pull in a breath. "Except your eyes are no longer brown."

A brow rose. "Things were different then…"

"But still the same hopeless goal."

Loki threw him across the room.

Tony hit the stone floor and gasped. For a moment, he thought about lying there. Loki always seemed to have another plan. Struggling, he rose as he muttered, "Jarvis, any time now."

As he clambered to his feet, Loki clamped his fingers tightly around his throat again—Keeva was _never_ finding out that he let it happen back to back. Loki leaned in close.

"You will all fall before me."

"Deploy," Stark gasped.

"And do not worry. I will make sure that little shape-shifter that has taken a liking to you will witness your broken body. If nothing else could break her, I'm sure that will."

"Deploy!" Tony choked out as Loki threw him out his own window.

Falling was never a feeling he liked. It always woke him from his dreams, and the few times that he had fallen in his armor he had prayed his thrusters would ignite.

As he plummeted down the side of his own building, hoping and praying Jarvis deployed his newest suit, the wheels in his mind began spinning around on the fact Loki had referred to Keeva as a shape-shifter. He made a mental note to ask her about it later—when he wasn't falling to his death. The newest Iron Man suit suddenly enveloped his body and his thrusters ignited, sending him rocketing back up the side of the tower.

He leveled out and hovered outside the window, looking at a slightly stunned Loki. "And there's one other person you pissed off. His name was Phil."

Loki raised his staff as it gave off a blue light. Tony raised the palm of his hand, heard the repulsor whine and he beat Loki to the punch as the repulsor beam nailed the "god" in the chest. As he watched Loki sail backwards, he sighed. "God that felt good."

Tony's attention was drawn upwards by a blast and a blue light shining towards the sky. "Right." His HUD flashed red and targets lit up. "Army." He took a deep breath and rocketed upwards to meet them.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She awoke curled against the cold metal wall. The whistling in her ears was gone, but so was Tony. Her limbs immediately stiffened. She moved her nose to her shoulder and took a deep breath. The fading smell of coffee and dust filled her lungs—it was only the coffee she was concerned about. That meant Tony had been around. He was alive.

Skylar sat up, hearing voices echoing through her room. She turned to find a large TV mounted on the wall near her door. At the edge of her bed sat a man. His brown eyes glanced over at her and he ran a hand through his pitch black hair. She stiffened slightly. She knew him, but couldn't recall where.

"Where's Tony?"

The man issued to the screen.

In an instant she was on her feet, blanket clutched in her hands. Across the screen were flashes of grey reptile-like creatures she knew to be Chitauri. _Well, at least they aren't eating people and turning into them._ Her mouth hung open as a shot of Iron Man flying past panned out to show he was being followed by several—_air chariots?_

Unsure of what to do, she made for the door. Perhaps she could help Fury. Or get down to the battle. When the handle refused to budge, she glanced back at the man.

"You locked me in here?"

He shook his head. "I am not here to harm you, Skylar."

"Let me out."

The man rose from the bed. "I am here to help you."

She pushed her back against the door. Her eyes ran up and down his suit and black hair. He was so familiar. Where did she know him from? "Who are you?"

"My name is Jet."

"Well then, _Jet_," she replied, "open the fucking the door."

"I told you, I cannot."

"Why?"

A small smile crossed his lips. "Funny how you _always_ disobey."

She paled. His voice was softer, but she was certain it was the man who had been haunting her. He had been there in the workshop so long ago, he had appeared in Tony's room after the repulsor incident, and there again when she was in captivity. Her eyes narrowed. "Tony will come after you when he returns."

"Mr. Stark told you to stay in here." He took a step forward.

"No!" she snapped. "Tony wouldn't contain me to a room."

"Like he didn't contain you in Malibu?"


	39. Jonah, Mansions, and Possessions

**Hello lovelies! I'm super swamped! Big week for work and life! (Ten, when I get a moment to breathe I'll be back!)**

**Tomorrow's the US premiere of Iron Man. Anyone excited? Am I the only who watched it online early? I didn't like it. I'm hoping it's better after I watch it a second time tomorrow. It made me a bit depressed and mad. If you saw it in a different light, let me know. PM is always open! I'd love to know why you liked it because maybe I'm missing something. If you agree with me, I'd love to know that too. Ha ha. In other news, the soundtrack is pretty amazing though!**

**Hope you enjoy! Let me know!**

* * *

"_In the night, the stormy night  
She closed her eyes  
In the night, the stormy night  
Away she'd fly.  
And dreamed of para- para- paradise"  
_—_Paradise by Coldplay__  
_

As he flew through the battle his thoughts seemingly ran away. If Jac hadn't died, he could have easily attacked these grey reptilian creatures—_Chitauri_. If Declan hadn't left he could have easily helped them fight back the invasion. Why did Cloak always have to leave at the most inopportune times? Tony grit his teeth. _Why remember fragments, but not the entire memory?_

Tony twisted and turned through the buildings as the Chitauri chased him. He took some solace in this—if they were following him that left them less time to be attacking civilians on the ground. He cast a glance back at the following herd as a memory poked through.

"_So… What are those?"_

_Hovering next to her in midair, he looked at her. "I'm going with air chariots, Keevs."_

_Despite her best efforts a smile spread across her face. "Right, well, you have fun with those."_

Tony blinked. He—no, _they_—had come across them before, except they were different this time. There was something about them that had frightened Keeva last time—_Last time?_

"Stark."

Tony shook his head as a voice broke into his concentration. It was that archer, Clint Barton. Barton had originally been under Loki's possession—had been behind the attack on the Helicarrier. Natalie had fought with him and—literally—smashed the possession out of him.

"You got a lot of strays sniffing your tail," Barton continued through the headset.

Tony made another turn through the buildings. "I'm just trying to keep 'em off the streets."

"Well they can't bank worth a damn. So find a tight corner."

Tony turned his head from side to side as he began his search. "I will roger that."

He ducked as one chariot flew past out of control. An arrow protruded from its driver, apparently Barton had gotten to it. Another chariot flew under him. After quick whine from his gauntlet, a repulsor blast hit another chariot which tumbled to the streets below. He then sped off with another group following him. Coming around a build he turned sharply, and sighed when only one hit the wall and exploded.

"Oh boy…" He banked left and flew into a tunnel. An explosion from behind slammed him into a wall. He quickly righted himself. Declan would probably question who taught him to fly. He shook his head. If these thoughts continued those would get him killed.

Flying out of the tunnel, he banked right and watched as the chariots came out of the tunnel in a ball of fire. Tony's brow rose as a song echoed through his helmet.

"_Ooh oh chariots of fire. Higher and higher, ascending above. Ooh oh chariots of fire, share my desire creation of love."_

"Jarvis, what the hell is that?"

"_Chariots of Fire_ by BWO, sir."

Tony shook his head. "You're fired. Now stop that shit."

With it silent enough to think again, Stark then turned his attention to Barton. "Nice call. What else you got?"

"Well Thor's taking on a squadron down by Sixth."

Tony pursed his lips. "And he didn't invite me."

_*TiC*TiC*TIC*_

"Tony never held me hostage in Malibu."

Jet shrugged. "I remember those cuffs you had on your wrists."

Skylar shook her head. "This isn't the same thing. It's not like that anymore." She tried the handle again.

"The door won't open."

She turned to him. "Why not?"

"Is it even real?"

Skylar turned her head slightly to the right. "You're not crazy, are you? Thinking this is the Matrix or something?"

Jet shook his head and glanced toward the TV. "It looks like they're losing."

Skylar moved away from the door and looked at the screen. "Where did that come from?"

"You must have wanted to see the news."

Her head snapped toward him. "What?"

"Do you want the bed in here or do you think it's crowded?"

Her brow rose. "I'm not sure what you mean by that."

"Do you want the bed to remain?"

Skylar tilted her head to the right and shrugged.

"The bed only exists if you want it too. If you believe the bed is gone, it will be."

Her brow rose. She hesitated for a few moments before wishing the bed no longer existed. In a wisp of dust it disappeared. Her eyes slightly widened. "You've done some sort of Matrix thing, haven't you? If you hand me a spoon I swear to—"

"Who do you swear to? Do you even believe in the Midgardian deity?"

Skylar nodded. "Except he's different where I come from."

"He's more distant in the other realms then he is here."

Her eyes narrowed. The feeling he gave her led to chills up and down her spine. "Who the hell _are_ you?"

"I said my name is Jet. I am here to help you."

"If you were here to help me you, would have saved me from that bitch."

"Amora?" Jet shook his head. "She is allied with Loki and Declan. Declan created laws that said only mortals could assist you. That is why I allowed Stark's comrade to gain information about your whereabouts. I helped you out in the only way I could. I'm trying to help you now."

"You said Stark chained me in Malibu and chained me again now."

"Mortals want to control that which gives them power. He may take care of you, but it is no more than he would a dog."

_A dog? _Skylar leaned against the wall as a jagged breath reached her lungs. Was Tony's goal to keep her a caged animal? She shook her head. Why did that frighten her?

Jet took a step closer. "I know this is probably not the time you want to find that out."

_He's lying. He's lying. He's lying._ Her hands covered her face, and wished to be anywhere but that room—somewhere safe. _This isn't happening._ The cold, small space around her seemed to fade. Peeking through her fingers, she noticed she was in the entryway of a decaying mansion.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

His lasers ran across the side of the mammoth whale-like beast.

"_The leviathan; they have always scared me." _The jade eyes flickered across his mind._ "Those are the kind from hell. Not the one talked about in Job."_

"Sir, we will lose power before we penetrate that shell."

Tony shook his head and cut the laser. "Even with the stronger reactor, Jarvis?"

"Yes. It has not had a chance to recharge since you declined to sleep the past few nights."

Tony bit the inside of his cheek as he pushed his thrusters. He rolled his eyes. Despite the high energy readings, he found it odd in order for it to be fully charge he had to have slept—the one powering the tower didn't need that kind of rest.

With a sigh, he shot ahead of the beast. As he flew in a wide circle, weaving around buildings, he turned to meet the leviathan head on. He heard the armor slightly shift on his thighs revealing small missiles.

"Jarvis, you ever hear the tale of Jonah?"

"I wouldn't consider him a role model," the A.I. immediately retorted, a lower note of worry in its response. _An intelligence that has some sort of feeling._ If he wasn't about to go into the mouth of the leviathan, he would have laughed.

Taking a breath, he entered the leviathan. Darkness enveloped him. He could feel the explosions from the tiny missiles on his thighs as they erupted in the belly of the beast. As the leviathan exploded, he was blown from its carcass and plummeted to the ground, rolling across the street and into a taxi before stopping—_Why are they never there when I whistle?_

As he rose, two shots from the weapons that the Chitauri held blasted him back into a phone booth and he fell to the ground again. He looked up to find himself surrounded—_this is really __**not**__ my day._

"Stark." The barking voice of Nick Fury over the headset didn't help any. "Do you hear me? You have a missile headed straight for the city."

Tony felt chills run through his body as he pushed himself to his feet. "How long?" A Chitauri slammed the butt of a rifle onto his head and he went down again. Then another hit—_I'm not a fucking piñata!_

"Three minutes, max," Fury responded as a third struck Tony. He shot a few repuslors blasts and knocked back the oncoming crowd. Fury continued, "The payload will wipe out Midtown."

"Jarvis, put everything we got into the thrusters."

"I just did," responded the A.I.

Tony pushed himself to his feet as the thrusters ignited. He sped towards the oncoming missile, and bit the inside of his cheek.

_Steve looked at him. "—Back off."_

"_I'm starting to want you to make me." Tony was now growing frustrated that Rogers wouldn't leave the D.C. issue behind._

"_Yeah. Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?" Steve questioned._

_That was an easy one. "Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."_

_Rogers was quiet for a moment. "I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on the wire and let the other guy crawl over you."_

_He stiffened. If he had made another choice that night in the workshop would Keeva still be with him? Or, if he had chosen to hide Pepper before he went after Mandarin, would she be alive? He looked at Steve. "I think I would just cut the wire."_

"_Always a way out." Steve was taunting him—laying out all his shortcomings for everyone to see. "You know you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero."_

_If he was a hero Jac wouldn't have died. "A hero? Like you? You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle."_

He was pulled from his thoughts by Natalie's desperate voice over the headset. "I can close it. Can anybody copy? I can shut the portal down."

"Do it," Steve snapped in response.

"No, wait!" Tony cut in.

"Stark, these things are still coming," Steve replied.

"I got a nuke coming in. It's gonna blow in less than a minute." His HUD system targeted the missile coming at him as he flew out over the harbor. He flew past it. Doubling back, Tony positioned himself under it. "And I know just where to put it." He grabbed the nuke and guided it toward the tower.

"Stark, you know that's a one way trip." Steve's voice was low and quiet.

"Save the rest for the turn, J." Tony swallowed. "Rogers, you have to watch out for her." He waited a few moments, but no reply came. "Steve! Are you _there_?"

There was a hesitation before Steve's voice came over the headset. "I'm here, Tony."

Tony nodded. With a deep breath, he changed angles and shot straight up the side of Stark Tower for the portal. "You got her, right? Because… because everyone's gone. And she's _not_ going to be happy about this."

"I got her, Tony. I'll watch her."

"Thanks, Capscicle."

He felt a soft _buzz_ as the portal enveloped him and the nuke. Before him floated a large space craft with what appeared to be four arms. From it came more leviathans and chariots. _Holy shit…_

Tony heard his rockets power down. The HUD screen trembled and faded out. The missile rushed past him heading toward the space craft. He heard a few _chinks_ as parts of his arm fell away from him. He watched as the nuke connected with the craft—blowing it into oblivion. Tony breathed out as his eyes closed.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

A grand staircase stood before her missing the entire right railing and most of the left. She stumbled a few steps back. _Where—_Her eyes were drawn to the ground. The floor was covered in layers of dirt, rubble, and dust; cracks marred the once smooth marble. However, something black etched on the floor shown through the debris. As her eyes followed the lines, she realized it was a large 'A'. She spun for the door only to find Jet blocking her path.

"What is this place?"

He shrugged. "It is no place I know."

Skylar's attention was drawn towards a TV appearing on the wall to her left. News coverage of the attack was plastered all over. Her heart dropped as she watched the Iron Man armor rocket across the screen followed by several of the chariots.

"What did Conrad do?"

"He is destroying Midgard. He means to rule it."

Skylar looked at him. "And you are powerless to fight in this?"

"I am not gifted with much, Lady Skylar."

Skylar shook her head. "I don't understand. What's going on?"

Jet glanced around before approaching her. "Before the Malibu house exploded, I grabbed Mr. Stark from the workshop and brought him outside. Declan appeared and I had to flee. He wanted to kill Tony, but we are forbidden from touching mortals."

"Then how did you rescue Tony from the house?"

"I went against the rules. I did it because you seemed to be attached to Mr. Stark—"

"But you said Tony treated me with no more respect than a dog, so why save him?"

Jet fidgeted with his fingers. "I thought he would save you since no one other than a mortal was allowed to come to your rescue. You see, there are people who need you in the world. There are things that only you can fix."

Skylar's eyes narrowed. "You knew that Tony didn't save me. You watched me in that place while I was beaten. You saw what they did to me. You knew what I was put through and yet you didn't help?"

"I couldn't—"

"Bullshit. You just said you helped Tony. And you were in the dark with me. I called you the Angel of Death." Her hands clenched into fists. "You led me into that dark place."

"I was trying to give you life!" he pleaded. "I was trying to save you from this!"

"No, you present empty promises. You always have," she growled.

Jet shook his head and held up his hands. "I haven't. I have only wanted the best for you. Please, let me explain."

Skylar studied him quietly, before giving him a curt nod.

"Thank you, Lady Skylar." He straightened up and held his head high. "After I rescued Mr. Stark from the wreckage, he was taken to the hospital. He was unconscious for around a month. During this time, demons poisoned him so that when he did wake up he would not be able to fully heal. In fact, he should have died. It's… odd he didn't." A brow rose before he shook his head and looked at her. "I am grateful he didn't. James Rhodes was there when he awoke. They wanted to throw Mr. Stark in prison because he had hidden you. Mr. Stark escaped and went on the run. Declan was with him for bits and pieces to throw him off track. Declan sent the demons and his Hellhound."

Skylar bit the inside of her lip as Jet took a few steps closer.

"I healed Mr. Stark. He was led to James Rhodes house where the Hellhound prepared an ambush. I guided him out and to New York. The Hellhound found us there. It tried to kill Mr. Stark, so I killed it."

As his story washed over her, her brow furrowed. "I'll have to ask Tony."

"You would believe a mortal over another one like you?"

Skylar took a step back. "I trust Tony."

Jet frowned. "Even though he kept you hostage?"

"He saved me, Jet. And I know him. I trust him."

Jet's eyes grew wide as he glanced up at the screen. "You may never get the chance to ask him."

Skylar turned to see the Iron Man armor rocketing towards the sky—in line with a shining blue light—with a missile strapped to his back. A gasp left her lips as he disappeared. Her fingers covered her open mouth. The blue light that had haunted her dreams… Why hadn't she realized it before? She knew it well—_the Tesseract_. Conrad's, no, _Loki's_ ultimate goal had been to get to that. She was just a power detour on the way there.

She watched the blue light in the sky disappear. The screen cut back to a reporter as words scrolled across the bottom stating the end of Iron Man had come.

Her nose flared. Stark had done what she asked him not to. Her hands balled into fists at her sides as a tremor ran through her body. In seconds the screen shattered into oblivion. She turned to Jet, eyes narrowed. "If this is really a dream, then why aren't you gone?"

He stared at her. "Why aren't you asleep, little one?"

Her brow rose. "Wha—?" In the next second, darkness filled her vision and she hit the floor—remembering no more.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

The dark metal ceiling above, which gave way into the walls below, was undoubtedly thick. This place was meant to cage, what exactly?

He was aware of the lock clicking and the metal door grinding open.

"Visitor for you. Let's go."

A soft smirk lit his face as he glanced over at the S.H.I.E.L.D. guard. Despite the heavy artillery the man carried, the petrified look in his eyes said he wouldn't do much if push came to shove.

As he rose into a seated position, he stretched. The cuffs above his head kept his hands close together—the irony of now being the captive. He stood, walked towards the door and his smirk grew. Outside his cell three more guards stood with loaded weapons—all fearful of his next act.

It was good to be king.

"I suppose my dear _brother_ has come to bring me home," he hissed.

"Get a move on, prisoner."

Amusement danced in his eyes. Irony again. He had demeaned her to nothing more than an object and now they had done the same thing to him—_an eye for an eye, I suppose._ He followed two guards down the hallway.

He glanced at the two wary soldiers behind him. He could probably send them running with a snarl. However, Thor would not be please, neither would the All-Father if he tortured the mortals further, and he did not want to add counts to his crime. He hadn't been instructed too.

He found it odd when they lead him to an interrogation room. His eyes scanned the dim room as the guards closed the door behind him. A bright light shone on a table in the center of the room. The far corners were void of all light. What sort of trickery had the All-Father used this time? He took a seat at the table as he continued to search.

"Loki."

His ears twitched at the sound of his name as a smirk spread across his face.

"I'm beginning to think you're immortal, son of Stark."

Out of the shadows appeared the weathered and beaten man of iron—scratches and bruises lined what little of his skin could be seen. In his hands he carried a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. Loki watched as he gingerly seated himself and placed the drink on the table. He poured two glasses and pushed one to Loki.

"Attempting an alliance after you have already won?"

Stark looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "You're going to tell me where Skylar is."

Loki smiled. "This is about the shape-shifter? How very peculiar seeing as she is the one who apparently caused all this. I've heard rumors that she killed that red-headed friend of yours."

The man of iron took a sip. "Why did you have her?"

He brought the drink to his lips and leaned back. "There are certain things that slip the mind. I am certain you are familiar with this."

"I'm not in the mood, reindeer games. Tell me why you had her."

He shrugged.

"You think that the silent treatment gets you far? We all know you're going to be sent to your room when Thor takes you home. You'll be grounded for years. Doomed to wallow by yourself in sadness. I'm sure your Legos will miss you in your absence."

Stark did have a point. He was the only one going down in the scheme of things. He took another sip of the Midgardian substance. If he was the god of mischief and chaos, why was he so willing to take the secrets to his grave—so to speak?

Stark sighed. "Apparently this was—"

"I was not the one to suggest torturing your little shape-shifter."

Stark silenced immediately and waited.

"I do not know when I was brought in on the plan," Loki continued. "It was sometime after my banishment from Asgard. When you are… weakened, your mind is not always your own."

"You're talking about possession? Amora possessed you?"

He scoffed. "The Enchantress is not fit to lead. She can barely keep track of Skurge."

"The Executioner? Lackey with the axe?"

Loki nodded. "Yes. I am not sure where he wandered off to. It is of little importance anyway. Son of Stark, you have yet to actually meet the one tugging the strings."

The man of iron took a sip of the drink. "So what did you suggest regarding _my little shape-shifter_?"

A smirk spread across his face. "You mock for you do not see."

"Then show me."

"You were an unexpected predicament. I did not expect you to save her. I'm not sure if _they_ did either. From the whispers I heard, you are the only one that was capable of saving her—the only one she'd _trust_ to. However, one of them must have helped you. It is only with a _large_ amount of magic that you must have gotten to Avalon undetected, let alone at all."

Stark straightened up. "Avalon?"

"The area where you rescued Lady Skylar. It is one of the few areas that exist as a go-between when it comes to realms. You are a mortal; you should not have found that isle." Loki drained his glass then placed it on the table. "As you should _not_ have escaped your estate. Someone is aiding you."

"You're the reason my beach front house is gone." He poured Loki another glass and topped off his own.

The god sighed heavily and shook his head. "As Conrad I was not in control. In a possession, _man of iron_, you can always tell by their eyes changing. At the time mine were brown. Do they look brown to you now?"

"Your condescending tone isn't helping your case." Stark leaned forward and took another sip.

Loki studied him intently. Stark's narrowed eyes searched for any answer, any hint to make sense of what had happened. Providing the man of iron with privileged information would definitely hinder or possibly ruin the plans of the one who controlled him on many occasions—a great form of payback. "I am not the one who ordered for the shape-shifter to be tortured. I did not even know who she was at the time. I vaguely remember what _I_ did during that time. When you are possessed, your actions normally are a blur at best."

"Do you know why you began torturing her?"

"You assume it was I who started it." Loki shook his head. "They were already afflicting her when I was brought into the hive."

"There were more of you?"

"Amora is, more or less, under their control, but I believe she would rather stay with them since her hopes of obtaining Thor will never be."

Stark swirled his drink in his cup. "What did they do to Keeva?"

Any remaining smirk drained from his face. He never had an issue killing to become king, but what had happened to the girl was a common bond they shared. "I do not know all of it. I do know that what they did was to bring out any powers. It was a foolish hope. After they placed that chip in her arm, they could never have hoped to see the extent of her powers."

"Chip?"

"A certain metal compound cursed with a dark spell that renders her power nearly non-existent."

"Nearly? She clearly used a few powers even with that chip."

"I say nearly because most of her _abilities_ were rendered useless." A smirk twitched at the corners of his lips. "Of course, when they double-crossed me, certain consequences were in order. I am certain they did not expect her to regain full power which is why they were unprepared for the facility crumbling to the ground."

"You helped her escape?" Stark's brow rose.

Loki shook his head. "You think I am actually invested in the shape-shifter. I care for her no more than any other."

"Why was she targeted?"

"You truly have no clue do you, man of iron?" Loki shook his head. "_Many_ were targeted. Even more were killed; you should be familiar with that."

"I'll admit I don't understand." Stark shrugged. "What can you tell me that Declan couldn't?"

Loki smirked as a piece fell into place. He had heard a story from a nurse at the facility that claimed a doctor was mysteriously murdered because he was trying to rape the girl. "Ah… A man will go to great lengths to protect his offspring. And since his eldest ended up on display, I would expect him to protect the younger even more."

Stark's head tilted to the right. "Declan had another child?"

"He did not share his history with you? Well, with how the realms are twisted now, it is no surprise. He would do anything to keep the youngest safe." Loki took a sip of his drink. "His wife was murdered many years ago at the time they took Lady Skylar. Declan's oldest is now on display in the halls of the Asgard. Sometimes it is not safe to be a shape-shifter."

"He's on display?"

"You remember that the sibling is male. Perhaps there is yet hope."

Stark's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by him being on display?"

"It is an incredible feat to slay a dragon."

"So you're telling me Keeva's brother was Puff the magic dragon? Did he live by the sea? Is she a dragon?"

Loki smiled. "Nay, son of Stark. He was roughly the size a grown horse. She however, is something entirely different."

"And that would be?"

Loki took a sip. In honesty, he couldn't recall. He shook his head. "I know that she shifts, but I do not know what to."

"Where is she now?"

The one in charge should never have angered Stark. _The fool should have known it would be his downfall._ Loki's finger traced a circle on the table as a chuckle left his lips.

"What now?" Stark took a sip.

"Apparently not everything they attempted to foresee could be accounted for."

"Meaning?"

He looked at the man of iron. "They never expected you to save her. They never expected Declan to find her. They assumed capturing and possessing the Necrotaur would end all their problems. I am sure once Declan hears word that his precious Necrotaur has been murdered he will see to it they reap the consequences of that mistake."

Stark placed his glass on the table and looked at him. "Who's they?"

"I suppose it's more of a 'he'. And as I said, he has yet to introduce himself to you. However, man of iron, if you want to protect your shape-shifter, you're going to need to fight for her. I am not speaking of putting on your armor and going to battle. This war is not something you can see, this is something you cannot see."


	40. What Did You Expect?

**Hello all of my lovelies. Hope you are doing well. If you had finals, I hope those went or will go well. **

**14 days of work left until summer hours take over. *Cheers!***

**Next week's chapter I'll try to get out on Thursday. My sister graduates and I have relatives in town so we'll see.**

**As always, hope you enjoy. Follow to make your life easier. And I'd love you forever if you reviewed! (Or PM especially about IM3)**

* * *

_Truth is confirmed by inspection and delay;_  
_falsehood by haste and uncertainty_  
_—Tacitus_

Something was prodding her in the back. She groaned. She must have fallen asleep near Tony and he had the _brilliant_ idea to poke her with a screw driver. Her brow wrinkled. Whatever Tony was poking her with was too large to be a screw driver. And then it dawned in on her that she hadn't seen Stark since the TV blew up. _He's dead?_

"Ma'am, wake up."

Her eyes fluttered open and the dreary, evening world filtered into view. She turned and looked up. A police officer stood over looking down at her.

"I'm going to need you to vacate the bench."

Skylar rubbed her eyes and stood up. "Sorry, sir."

"Not a problem. Just don't do it again. Have a nice evening, miss."

Skylar walked down the path and looked across the park she spent the night—_day?_—in. Dark rain clouds gathered over head. Benches were scattered along the path—well, those that weren't destroyed. The Chitauri invasion had taken its toll across the park with gaping holes in the grass areas and trees uprooted from the ground.

She hadn't exactly witnessed any of the damage first hand due to being unconscious in the crumbling mansion. And what had gone down in that place, she still wasn't sure. Despite being alert for it, she felt as if there were gaping holes in her memory regarding how she went from the Helicarrier to the mansion.

Skylar maneuvered through the park—rain starting to fall—as she began to question what she was even doing in that mansion in the first place, or who in the world Jet was. Did she trust the man who had been there every time she was abused? Was he more reliable than Tony? She stretched and her bones cracked.

As she emerged from the trees, a tower caught her attention. A large _A_ hung near the top. For a moment, she wondered if it belonged to Tony because it was so ostentatious. However, it would have read certainly _STARK_ instead of _A_.

Pulling up her cowl, she began to jog through the park—weaving and dodging through those attempting to get to the safety of cover from the rain—in hopes of finding someplace to take cover. As she dashed for the street, she wondered if there was a homeless shelter nearby she could stay in.

Coming upon a traffic circle in the street, she dodged a man on his cell phone only to crash into a woman with an umbrella. The woman stumbled backward, keeping her fingers tightly gripped around a pair of ice skates in her hands.

"I'm so sorry! I'm—" Skylar paused as she looked at the woman who was around her age; crystal blue eyes, white blonde hair—_Zoey?_ She blinked and her eyes caught a name tag pinned to her lapel. Apparently the woman was a skating instructor named Liv. Skylar cleared her throat. "I'm so sorry, ma'am."

Liv smiled at her, but as she looked over Skylar's outfit her eyes widened. "It's quite alright. Accidents happen. If you don't mind me asking, are you headed somewhere close? You don't have an umbrella and you look like you could do with a change of clothes."

The right corner of Skylar's lips tugged downward. She scratched her right arm. Despite her prior thoughts about the shelter, she decided she'd rather stay in the streets. "I-I'm—I am headed somewhere close. I've just been travelling… for a few days."

"Forgive me. I just assumed, because of the way you were dressed… I'm so sorry. I was once homeless and I never want anyone to deal with that." She shook her head. "Anyway, sorry about the confusion."

Skylar nodded finding it odd the woman was so open with her. She then pursed her lips as she turned and started up the street. Where was she going to stay? _No Malibu, no Helicarrier—_

"Miss!"

Skylar turned back to Liv. "Yes?"

A different light shone in her crystal blue eyes, as if she suddenly knew a secret. "I thought you were headed home?"

A brow rose. "Home? I didn't say—"

Liv blinked once. "Why are you headed in that direction?"

Her mouth hung open for a moment, before she responded. "The place I'm headed to is this way?"

A small smile played at the corners of the woman's lips. She shook her head. "You know that isn't right. If you remembered, you'd know all you had to do was cross the street and there you'd be."

Skylar took a step back and slipped on a puddle. Her arms spread slightly in a balancing attempt to keep her from falling. "Across the street?"

"Of course." Liv smiled and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

As the rain began to pour, Skylar looked around the traffic circle—or what was left of it. Huge holes had destroyed the road. A few flipped cars still littered the rubble. She wiped her eyes and looked at the tower again. Well, the _A_ was quite ostentatious.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony poured himself a cup of coffee. In the week since the Chitauri invasion, he had lost Keeva—_again_, interrogated Loki, still had no idea what was really going on, allowed Banner to bunk with him for a while, and still had yet to catch up on sleep. Jarvis kept _constantly_ reminding—_nagging_—him that he needed sleep. Tony scoffed at him. _I'll sleep when I'm dead._

The slight shake in his hands as he took a sip of coffee wasn't unnoticed—just ignored.

"If you wanted to beat Randy Gardner's record of staying awake for eleven days, you can't drink coffee."

Tony looked over as Banner entered the room. "I'm sure over the course of my lifetime I've beaten his record on several occasions. This one year, big guy, I played host to twins—"

"Do you normally deflect things you don't want to talk about?"

He tilted his head slightly and took a sip. "Are we supposed to be bosom buddies because you're bunking here?"

Banner shook his head. "I just heard you in the Helicarrier, or rather, what you wouldn't say."

"Since when are you this open with people?"

"I'm just concerned for your well being. It's been a while since I've stayed any place this nice; I'd hate to lose it if the owner were to suddenly be forced into a straight jacket and led away." Banner moved toward the fridge and took a water bottle from it. "What's your connection with her?"

"I thought you majored in gamma rays, not in psychology."

"I'm not signing you up for rehab. You just seem to obsess over things and I thought maybe talking about it would help."

"Because you discuss all your problems?"

"Touché."

Tony placed his cup on the counter and hopped up next to it. "I really don't know how I know her, but I did save her. I do that sort of thing as Iron Man."

"Do you keep all the people you save in your home?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

Banner chuckled and moved to the counter, settling onto a stool. "I mean other outcasts."

Tony shook his head and sipped his coffee. "She was the first stray dog I brought home."

"And where did she run off too?"

"Loki captured her almost seven months ago."

Banner held the bottle gently in his hands. "Did you give her a good home?"

He sighed as he pursed his lips and shrugged. "I tried."

After taking a sip of water, Banner smiled softly. "It was your lab."

Tony raised a brow.

"She spoke of being in a lab before. She must have been thinking of your workshop."

"Keevs was imprisoned in a lab."

"She wasn't scared of it though. Skylar spoke of being hunted and her reaction was much different then when she spoke of the lab. It sounded like whatever lab she had been in held fond memories."

Tony leaned back against a cabinet. "Well it doesn't matter now, because I can't find her."

"Loyal dogs find a way home."

"She shifts into a dog?"

Banner blinked. "I thought that's what you were implying."

"I don't know what she can change into. She never showed me—never told me." He sighed.

Banner was silent for a few moments before speaking again. "Do you have any clues as to where she might be?"

Tony shook his head. "The last thing I was told was that she would find me."

He straightened up. "Then why are you looking for her?"

"What?"

"Why are you driving yourself insane looking for her? You were already told _she'd_ find you."

Great, now Banner was turning against him. He opened his mouth to retort when Jarvis cut in.

"Sir, there's an issue that needs your attention on the top floor of Stark Industries."

"What's going on, Jarvis?"

"Attempted breaking and entering. The police are arriving."

Tony shook his head. "Never a dull moment."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She crossed the empty traffic circle, finding it difficult at moments to climb over the fissures in the road. Skylar walked up to the entrance. It was after well after closing time, but the door remained open. She looked for a security guard in the lobby, but found it empty. Her brow rose. _Why are there no signs stating where I am?_

Her boots squeaked across the reception area as she made for the front desk, leaving a sopping wet floor in her wake. Perhaps there was a bell to ring. Partway across, Skylar halted and looked at the elevator. It was considered breaking and entering, but if this was Stark Tower, then the owner would be up on the top floor—_if he's alive_. And was it technically breaking and entering if she was the one who bought the tower to begin with? She walked to the silver elevator doors and pushed the up button. As the doors opened, a security guard rounded a corner from the back.

"What are you doing?"

Without a word, Skylar slipped into the elevator as the guard rushed at her. She pushed the top floor button and the doors closed. When she arrived on the top floor, her heart sank. She looked around at the empty secretary's desk and the double doors ahead of her. The tower was just an office building? That didn't seem right. She glanced out the window. With the way the world looked below, she realized she couldn't be on the top floor.

As Skylar headed out of the elevator, she scanned the room, and around a corner stood another elevator with golden doors and hot-rod red buttons. A small smile lit her lips. _Ostentatious._ She headed for the doors and pushed the up button.

"Access unauthorized."

Skylar shook her head, but her smile grew at the familiar British voice. "Jarvis, open the doors. It's me."

Silence.

She pushed the button again.

"Access unauthorized."

"It's Skylar."

"Name unrecognized."

"Screw you, unrecognized. That should be on file." Skylar heard the elevator behind her chime. The guard was on his way. She was not about to be dragged back down and put in prison. After months of uncertainty, she was so close to being ho—some place stable. It would be a cold day in hell before she was taken to yet another place. She glared at the elevator doors.

"Jarvis, it's Skylar! Open the doors!"

"If you do not step away from the doors, I will alert the authorities."

Skylar rolled her eyes and jammed her finger down on the button again. "Open the damn doors, you worthless A.I."

"Access unauthorized."

She pounded on the doors. "For fuck's sake let me in!"

"Alerting the authorities now."

She rolled her eyes and sighed as the elevator doors behind her chimed open. She sighed. "I wonder how that will go when the five o'clock news comes on and Tony sees them saying Keeva got arrested."

"Hands in the air!" shouted a voice from behind.

With no reply from Jarvis, she turned to see the security guard pointing a taser gun at her. She vaguely caught the sounds of cop cars below as the silver elevator chimed again. The cops were probably on their way up.

"At least the response time is good," she muttered.

"Welcome back, Miss," Jarvis responded. "You have been missed."

The elevator chimed open and cops flooded into the room as she held up her hands. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I knew I should have just figured out how to create a new A.I."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"Tell me again how you ended up handcuffed on the floor."

"I hope you're enjoying this."

"Oh believe me, it's like Christmas." She watched black tennis shoes shuffle towards a pair of shiny shoes. "I do know her, officer. Sorry about the inconvenience, Jarvis lost his mind or something."

"It's quite alright, Mr. Stark, better safe than sorry. We'll get those cuffs off her right away."

"On second thought, do you think you can take her down to the station and put her in a cell? Would that be too much trouble? I'd be willing to pay you in coffee, or donuts."

She huffed, and heard a chuckle in response. In the next second, she felt a foot gently roll her on her side. She looked up to see a highly amused Stark looking down on her—_fucking grinning like the Cheshire Cat_.

"Rough day, E.T.?"

If her glare could kill him, it would have done so. She stiffened as two foreign hands worked to release her from the cuffs. After two soft clicks, she pulled her wrists free and rolled to her stomach. She pushed up to her knees and rubbed her red wrists. Skylar looked up to see Tony shaking hands with the security guard and two remaining cops.

"Thanks, gentlemen, for your quick response. It makes me feel safe. I can sleep like a baby."

"No trouble at all, Mr. Stark," said the cops in unison.

"Not a problem at all," answered the security guard.

All three were chuckling softly as they entered the elevator and descended to the bottom floor.

She was still glaring when Tony looked back at her—full grin on his face. He chuckled as he walked over and held out a hand. Her lips pursed to the right as she kept her glare intact. If she reached for his hand, would he really help her to her feet? Was he really alive?

"Come on, Keevs."

"How can I trust you?"

"Because I didn't let them arrest you for breaking and entering."

Honestly, she should be allowed to enter seeing as how the tower had been her doing—even though she had never been sure of where it was. She tensed as his chuckle broke into laughter.

"What?" she snapped. "Why are you laughing?"

"Imagine my surprise being summoned down here by Jarvis because apparently Keeva's returned. Then, I get down here to find you looking like a drowned cat and cops have you handcuffed on the floor. On top of that the security guard is _still_ pointing his taser at you like you're a threat. It's classic."

"I don't find it humorous."

Tony laughed again. "Come on, Keevs. Lighten up. Besides, you look cold and hungry, and sitting there isn't going to help. Don't be stubborn."

She looked away.

"Don't you want to go home?"

Skylar glanced at him and felt her chest tighten. The smile had left his lips and his eyes softened.

"I can't imagine you've come all this way just to sit on the doormat." He held out his hand.

_Home...? _The glare faded from her face, as her shoulders sagged. She reached up, paused, and bit her bottom lip. Could she take his hand? Would her fingers go straight through? She felt his warm hand wrap around hers. In a swift move, he pulled her to her feet. She looked up at him, her fingers keeping a grip on his hand, fearful he might disappear if she let go. She felt her lip start to tremble. How had he survived the explosion? How had he survived the portal? How was he alive before her now? Her eyes dropped to the reactor in his chest.

She cleared her throat as she steeled herself against any emotion and pulled back, only to realize he was gripping her hand as well. Her eyes dropped to where he claimed her.

"Are you alright, Keevs?"

She gave a stiff nod, knowing full well she was anything but.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Skylar stood in the middle of the room, shivering. She could feel the cold air from the vents hit her skin, but she wasn't entirely sure that the shudders were from that. She clasped her hands in front of her as her eyes fell upon a giant hole in the floor. Her brow rose.

"Ah, that would be from Loki and me."

Skylar startled as she looked up to find Banner a few feet from her. A soft smile crossed her face. "Banner."

"I'm working on fixing it." Tony made for the liquor on the wall to her left. "Drink, Keevs?"

She shook her head and looked back at the hole. "What is it Loki did?"

"The details are fuzzy, but he insulted… my other half."

Skylar looked up to Banner. "I believe they call your 'other half' the Hulk?"

He nodded in response. "Yes, that's _my_ shape-shifting."

Skylar bit her lip, hoping he wouldn't mention the fact she could shift. Her eyes darted to Tony. He stood watching her closely, a glass of scotch pressed to his closed lips.

Out of the corner of her eye, Skylar watched Banner glance between Tony and her. He cleared his throat. "I'm going to retire for the night. It's quite late."

"You sure, Banner?" Tony turned to him. "Perhaps we could watch a movie, or share stories about what we were doing _before_ and _during_ the invasion."

Skylar's chest tightened again. Was he accusing her of something?

"No, I am really exhausted. I'll see you both in the morning." Banner looked at her. "It's good to cross paths with you again. I'm glad you made it out of the Helicarrier safely."

"Pleasure to see you again as well. I'll see you in the morning."

Skylar turned to watch him retire to his room. Despite the fact she couldn't see Banner anymore, she remained facing the hallway. Would Tony question her? She wasn't sure she was up to answering anything right now—if ever. She hadn't had a chance to process anything. She had been going so long and had buried everything concerning the man who was still very much alive.

Skylar closed her eyes as she heard Tony's footfalls come up behind her. Her muscles tensed. She felt him pause next to her. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip as she side-eyed him. She was surprised to see he held out a glass of wine to her.

"What's this?"

"Sangria," he responded, handing it to her.

She watched a few berries, some ice, and an orange slice float around in the burgundy liquid. She brought it to her lips. Her nose caught the scent of sugar and brandy—being a shape-shifter had really done some weird things to her. She took a sip, then another. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she knew she loved it. She looked at him. He must have known too.

"How are you, Keevs?"

She took a longer draught, and turned away. "I'm alive."

He moved and put an arm around her. She felt him trying to lead her toward the couch. Skylar stiffened and dug her heels into the floor.

"Keeva?"

Through the glass she looked at him. She drained the wine and looked away. "I want a shower."

Tony nodded and moved to the hallway Banner had exited through. She watched as he drained the scotch from its glass. "I'll show you to your room."

A brow rose as she followed him. She had a room? He walked to one door and opened it. Her eyes immediately caught the burgundy carpet with black and gold markings. The next thing she saw was a bed dressed in white. As she neared the door, she saw an oversized chair to the left and beyond that a floor to ceiling bookshelf. Her shoulders relaxed.

As she entered the room, Skylar halted as her gaze reached the ceiling. Her mouth opened slightly. She loved Van Gogh's Starry Night. She had loved it since she had first set eyes on it. She didn't know what had captivated her about it, but she knew it had something to do with this room.

Skylar blinked. How did he know the things she liked? Why had he created this room for her? Why had he so quickly welcomed her back with arms opened?

"I did get you clothes, but I'm pretty positive they'll be baggy on you since you're going for that skeletal look again. I'll get you something to eat so you can look less like Corpse Bride." He grabbed her glass from her and retreated from the room.

She was left standing alone and at a loss for words.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony returned to her room a half hour later, with several choices on a serving tray. He had soup, a hot pocket, a blackened grilled cheese, a tortilla—also black on the bottom—and another _full_ glass of Sangria seated next to his fifth glass of scotch. Over his arm, lay her black jacket that had been spared.

As he looked about the room for her, his stomach churned for a split second thinking she was gone, and he had dreamed the entire thing up. However, before panic really ensued, his eyes caught a light from under the bathroom door. After a breath, the door opened.

He was startled to see her clean in her new appearance. His eyes traced their way over her dark golden hair, to the light grey camisole that covered her torso, to the baggy jeans covering her from the waist, down. His eyes rose again to her face. Her cheek bones protruded from pale skin and her lips were cracked. However, her jade eyes—which were nearly identical to Declan's—settled on him with a quizzical look.

Tony watched as she crossed her arms in front of her, covering her chest. _Prude._ "Look, I cooked."

"It smells burnt." He saw her attention settle on the black jacket nestled on his arm. He moved next to the bed, placed the tray on the nightstand, and grabbed the hoodie with both hands.

He moved closer and held the jacket open. Her brow rose momentarily before she responded by lacing one arm through a sleeve and then the other. She zipped it up and he watched as her finger traced the arc pattern on the front. For a brief second, her eyes glossed; then cleared her throat and looked at him as if the tears had never happened.

"Thank you." She took the Sangria from the tray and started on it. Her voice was soft when she spoke.

"That's what I'm here for, Keevs."

She eyed the liquid in her hands, allowing the silence to settle in.

"The hot pocket shouldn't be too burnt." Tony walked over and grabbed the plate. When he looked back at her, however, he noticed her slightly distant eyes and the fact she was biting her bottom lip. "What is it, Keeva?"

Her jade eyes slid from the burgundy liquid to his gaze. She seemed to be battling with some internal conflict before taking a small breath. "Did... you search for me?"

He glanced away. "It's not like I exactly had time."

Skylar slowly nodded and sipped the wine.

He felt the stillness of the room shift. The silence became heavy, and the atmosphere seemed cold. He looked back at her as her features seemed to ice over.

She cleared her throat. "To be honest, I am not really hungry. I would just like to sleep."

Tony's brow rose as her heard the slightly chilling shift in her voice. "You're not hungry? You're practically skin and bones. What are you fasting? Or becoming an anorexic?"

She shook her head. "I'm tired. I have not rested in months."

He paused momentarily. Should he push the issue? If she was tired it probably wasn't the best time to talk with her. However, how could she dismiss him after not seeing him for months? He sighed. "Well, there's always food in the kitchen. And I'm pretty sure there are Cheetos in one of the cupboards provided Banner and I haven't finished them by morning." When she didn't respond, Tony nodded and grabbed the tray. "I'll… see you tomorrow."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

_Tomorrow never seems to come._

Tony sat in the kitchen downing a scotch. Almost a week after Keeva had come back, the shoulder she'd given him had only grown icier. She didn't touch the Cheetos or the coffee nor any food he made. She would occasionally make a sandwich or eat a granola bar, but the biggest change was the fact she'd disappear for hours on end. Jarvis alerted him to the fact she spent most of her time in the unused levels below, but when he tried to seek her out, she was nowhere to be found. He was left wondering what he did wrong.

As Tony stood at the counter contemplating his major unknown offense against her, Banner entered. He watched the man grab a bottle of water and cast a concerned look his way.

"What?" Tony barked.

Banner shook his head.

"I know you're dying to say something. You've been giving me that look for days."

Bruce took a sip of his water. "She didn't react how you expected her too, did she?"

Tony sighed and shook his head.

"Did she say anything?"

"Just that she was tired and needed sleep. But I've _watched_ her. She's got those dark circles around her eyes. She's slept less than I have."

"Did you expect things to go back to the way they were?"

Tony wasn't sure what he expected. All he knew was that the silent treatment thrown him for a loop.

Banner looked at the water in his hands. "The recent things you've gone through—the invasion for instance—changed you, right?"

Tony nodded as Banner made eye contact with him.

"It changed your mindset, the way you see things, correct?"

"What are you getting at, Banner?"

Banner took a breath. "Whatever she went through changed her, too."


	41. What'd I Do?

**Hello lovely readers! Hope your week is well. I know this might be late, but it's a bit longer. Hopefully that makes up for it. My sister just graduated high school, family was in town for that and I had issues with a car wash. (IF ANYONE HAS BEEN TO A DANNY'S CAR WASH IN THE LAST FEW MONTHS AND SEEN THEM SMOKE PLEASE PM ME)**

**As always enjoy and review!**

* * *

"_I guess this is what it's supposed to feel like  
__No we don't talk, we don't talk, we don't talk anymore.  
__I guess this is what it's supposed to sound like  
__The universe, the universe, universe is torn."  
_—_Can't Stop, One Republic__  
_

"There are videos."

Keeva scratched her right arm and looked at him—her jade eyes frosty. "Videos?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. had files upon files with you in them. Some of these included videos. They also knew about that facility you were kept in. They had _lists_ of people there."

Tony sat on one end of the couch in the workshop. He glanced over at Keeva, who sat on a stool near his desk. Despite hoping that things between them would return to normal, she had barely spoken to him in the two weeks since she'd arrived. In fact, he was surprised she had come out of hiding.

He tapped a glass keyboard in his lap, and pictures appeared in holographs before them. "Records show there are people the facility took—_abducted_. Each one of them, S.H.I.E.L.D. kept tabs on."

Keeva was on her feet in seconds. She approached the holograms and pointed to a picture of a dark-skinned man. "Him. He was the zombie who bit me."

Tony clicked on the man. The other faces disappeared as a full body shot and information on the man popped up. "His name is Luke Cage, originally born Carl Lucas. It looks like he was imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit and in exchange for parole, he underwent a procedure which granted him steel-hard skin and made him stronger. His wife filed a missing person report almost two years ago."

"Do more people have that story?"

Tony brought up the previous page and scrolled through various names. "Hank and Janet Pym, missing for two years; T'Challa, king of Wakanda, missing for fourteen months; Matt Murdock, missing for two and a half years; Susan Reed and Jonathan Storm—brother and sister—missing for ten months." He paused as he pulled up a woman with blue skin, yellow eyes and red hair. "This is interesting. Raven Darkhölme, also known as Mystique. She's been missing for six years, the longest of any of them."

"She's the shape-shifter." Keeva looked at him. "She changed into Natalie."

"Changed into Romanov?"

She nodded.

"Was she the _only_ shape-shifter there?"

She looked at him for a tense moment before nodding. "This woman," Keeva said, issuing toward Mystique, "she sounded and acted like the assassin. I thought—_swore_ it was Natalie. The Necrotaur killed her and all I could think—" Keeva shook her head and moved to the window.

He didn't respond. His eyes narrowed slightly. Why was he now out of the loop? Why wouldn't she finish her thoughts or tell him she could shift? _Showing would be better._ What had he done to be treated like this?

Tony turned back to the files. As he glanced over them, he caught a running trend. He stopped typing, set the keyboard next to him, and walked over to the holographic screen. "Keeva, all of these people have some sort of powers."

He glanced at her. Her arms crossed as she spun towards the screen again, her eyes darting from picture to picture. "And I'm pretty positive we know them all."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony brought up another section of information the next day. He was shocked that she had chosen to make an appearance two days in a row—but he wasn't about to complain either. Perhaps it meant she'd soon tell him she could shift.

However, Keeva sat on the same stool as yesterday—_away_ from him. She scratched her right arm. In the very few times he had seen her, he noticed it was a regular habit. Tony vaguely remembered it happening on occasion prior to losing the Malibu house, but it was near constant as of late.

He leaned back on the sofa as he pulled up one of the videos.

_A little girl, no more than seven, sat in a metal chair at a steel table. Her hands sat upon a table and she stared at them. Her head turned to the right and a lock of her dark golden hair fell over her shoulder._

From the angle of the footage it appeared to come from a button camera on someone's shirt. Did they even have those at the time this was filmed?

"_Would you like me to give my name first?"_

Tony inhaled sharply and tensed.

_The little girl on the screen turned her jade eyes upon the speaker and nodded._

"_Okay then. My name is Howard Stark."_

For a moment the world seemed to freeze. His father had known her. He took a breath as the world spun around him and he glanced toward Keeva, who sat wide-eyed and stiff. From the confusion that spread across her face, she apparently had no memory of what they were watching. He wondered if that was the truth. Tony glanced back at the little girl on the screen.

_Her gaze shifted momentarily toward something on the left before looking back at the man. "They call me Diamond."_

The video cut and Tony took a few deep breaths. The world slowed around him again. His right hand gripped the corner of the couch when she didn't speak. She had nothing to add? Nothing to say? He looked at her. "You didn't tell me you knew my old man."

Her eyes narrowed on him. "I don't remember that I did."

His gaze narrowed and jaw clenched as he played the next video. How could she _not_ remember?

_The girl sat on a stained cot with her knees pulled up under her chin. Dark blue eyes met the camera before turning jade—_it reminded Tony of watching a flower bloom_—and a smile lit up her face. She reached out and took a chocolate bar offered to her. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."_

"_You can call me Howard."_

"_That's not polite, sir." She slowly unwrapped the bar and took a bite._

"_I've known you for a while now, pup."_

_Her lips turned up in a smile. On the left corner of her lip, a bit of chocolate had smeared. "I like that nickname."_

"_I knew you would, all things considered._ _ And you don't always need to be so polite."_

Tony stiffened. His father knew she could shift?

_Her head tilted to the right. "That is not what Amora says. She says manners will free you. She's a liar, though." She shrugged and looked up at him; a puzzled look crossed her face. "What?"_

"_Can you keep a secret?" A hand reached forward and wiped the chocolate on her lip away._

"_Obviously."_

"_I have a couple of secrets for you," Howard said and lowered his voice. "First, did you know I have a family?"_

"_You have a wedding ring. I assumed."_

"_Perceptive, aren't you?" Howard chuckled softly._

Tony felt his chest clench.

"_My wife's name is Maria."_

"_That's a pretty name. What is she like?"_

"_The love of my life."_

_She finished the chocolate bar and began folding the wrapper into a tiny square, her eyes focused on the tinfoil. "What's that like?"_

_Howard chuckled. "It's hard to explain. But you know you've met the love of your life when you feel complete. They make you a better person, and they make you more…you."_

_She looked at him. "Sounds cheesy."_

"_Yes, it does, but those are the facts. And it's a wonderful feeling."_

_She giggled. "Maria must be a very nice lady, then."_

"_She is. And we have a son together."_

_Her eyes widened. "You have a child?"_

"_I do."_

"_He must be very lucky to have his father."_

"_I don't always show it."_

_Her brow furrowed. "Why wouldn't you show it?"_

Tony noticed Keeva rise and move towards the back wall. She leaned against it, her fingers momentarily settling on the left corner of her lips, before her arms folded across her chest. A soft puff of breath left her lips before they pressed into a thin line and she continued watching.

"_It is a lot of work running a company," Howard replied. "And when I'm not there, I'm here with you."_

"_So then, take less time with me and more time with him."_

"_I wouldn't leave you."_

"_But he's your son. Every child needs time to be with their father." She frowned and looked away._

"_That's the other secret I wanted to tell you. You know, despite what Amora says, your father's not dead."_

"_Do not lie to me. Please, Mr. Star—Howard… Please, don't lie to me, sir."_

"_I'm not. Amora's the liar, like you said. There are so many things she's kept from you, so many things you don't understand. She is the one, though, that's responsible for keeping your father away. She's the one that murdered your mother. And I know Amora's blaming you, but none of it was your fault__—_"

The video cut, leaving silence radiating through the workshop. Tony blinked. She had known his father, had even talked about his family and she claimed she knew nothing. This was proof she was lying. He looked at Keeva.

"Do you want to tell me again how you don't know my father?"

"I don't recall any of that." Her eyes narrowed. "You know I can't remember."

"I think you're full of shit."

Her hands balled into fists.

"You _knew_ Rhodes had betrayed me and Conrad was coming, and you said _nothing_, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't believe a damn word you say."

For half a second, he saw hurt register across her face and thought she might break down due to the widened eyes and slightly opened mouth. However, in the next moment, her face steeled any emotions except the glare in her eyes. "You have no idea what it's like in the real world, Stark. Your parents gave you a comfortable life full of all the best the world had to offer. When you've been abused and tortured, _then_ come talk to me." She stormed out of the workshop.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He honestly wasn't sure when it had started, but as it took its toll he could feel the world crumbling. One moment there had been videos and thoughts—an attempt to piece together what had happened and why. The next, the foundation was collapsing before him as if a bomb were exploding in slow motion.

"_Someone in S.H.I.E.L.D. had to be getting all this information, Keeva."_

"_Don't call me Keeva," she growled. "And I don't know anyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. I never met anyone."_

"_Like you never met my old man? Or Natasha?"_

"_Fuck you."_

He was mad. Mad at her. Mad at his lack of knowledge. Mad at finding out his father spent more time with her then his _own damn family,_ and he couldn't figure out why. On more than one occasion, he had to stop himself from attacking her on the matter. With pent-up aggression, Banner had been an easy target to assail in the wake of the brewing storm.

The files he obtained had been complicated to weed through, and he was forced to recheck multiple records when he realized that top security matters had been encrypted in less obvious videos. When he brought up a list of the deceased he created, he finally achieved some sort of answers.

"_Him. Lycos."_

"_You mean Phil Coulson?"_

"_Call him what you want, but in the facility they called him Lycos."_

"_Are you sure about that? I thought you didn't __**know**__ anyone?"_

"_Go screw yourself, Stark."_

The dynamic in the household after that had only gone from bad to worse. If they happened into a conversation, it was a matter of minutes before she was shouting. It only escalated when Declan was brought into the mix.

_Keeva silently paced across the cold flagstone, shaking her head. "No, I think that man you call Declan is behind this. I think he has something to do with it."_

"_He does have something to do with this, but not in the way you think, Ke—"_

_She turned from him. "You are mistaken, Stark!"_

"_You have to trust me—"_

"_Trust you? You expect me to trust you? Do you honestly believe that if I trusted anyone, it would be you?" She spread her hands in a questioning manner. The wine in her right hand sloshed over the rim on the glass._

_Tony caught her eye and his tone soured. "I think I__** would**__. After all, it's __**me**__ you came running back to."_

_She crossed her arms. "You do __**not**__ get to determine who I place faith in! You have no idea what I've been through!"_

"_It's not like you've decided to open up about anything," he shot back. "I didn't know that you were going to revert back to your mute self!"_

"_I'm no longer that person!"_

"_Oh, that's right." He glanced to the wine glass in her hand. "No, instead you look completely different—which you failed to mention to me, by the way—and you're becoming a lush."_

"_Says the alcoholic!" she snarled, flinging the wine in his face and chucking her glass across the room._

_Tony wiped his face as the glass shattered against the wall. He stood up. "How dare you? How fucking dare you?! You're the one refusing help! I've tried asking! I've sat back patiently while you've hidden or remained silent! You're just this selfish little child who's back on the same high horse you were so long ago!"_

"_Thank you so much for your fucking concern and opinion on the matter!"_

His scotch glass sailed across the room and smashed into a wall—alcohol and glass glittering like rain as it fell to the floor. A hand ran down his face as he looked about the dark office. In the midst of everything, he had retreated to the top floor of Stark Industries knowing no one would look for him there.

He walked to the window behind his desk, overlooking the city. The peaceful lights twinkling at him from calm homes caused his shoulders to slump. Tony put a hand to his forehead as his eyes closed. Were things ever going to get better?

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

With Banner out of the tower for the night, Tony knocked on the door. When no reply came, he knocked again and then opened the door anyway before receiving an answer. The light from the hall filtered into the room. In the middle of the bed, Keeva lay curled up on her side, a pillow clutched in her arms. Her eyes stared out the dark window.

"Skylar?"

She didn't respond.

Well, if she wasn't going to speak, at least he could say his piece without argument. "I know that you don't understand why Declan isn't—"

"He is involved, and you are letting him have free reign!" she snarled. "I think that explains the facts!"

He felt himself bristle. "You're so fucking obstinate, Keeva!"

She sat up, her icy glare meeting his eyes. "That's rich coming from you, you arrogant bastard!"

He noticed a dark stain on her shirt and part of the pillow. He paled slightly. "What's on—"

She trembled. "Get the fuck out!"

Tony leaned against the door frame, arms folding across his chest. The odd stain seemed strange and he felt like he should know what it was. His wide eyes studied her closely as he took a deep breath. "I want to talk about the argument over Declan."

Her eyes narrowed.

"I know you don't believe me, but he's a good guy, Keeva. He is. I don't know who told you he's not, but they're lying."

Her head tilted slightly to one side. "Did Declan claim to save you?"

"He _did_ save me. He and Jac did."

Keeva's brow rose. "The black dog?"

Tony nodded. "Jac saved me from a demon attack and got me to New York. He was killed when Amora tried to murder me."

"Amora?"

"The bitch who kept you trapped."

Her eyes narrowed. "Declan is in league with them."

"No, he isn't, Keevs—"

"Stop fucking calling me that!"

"Stop being so fucking stubborn!" He sighed as he raised his arms. "Holy shit, Skylar! I'm tired of it!"

A flash of silver was enveloped by the sea of white and blood-red sheets as she rose from the bed. He swallowed roughly as he looked over her.

At one time, she had been soft and innocent, scarred only by fragments of torture and a forgotten past. The woman who now stood before him with the cold, hard gaze reflected no one he had ever seen. Before him was a loose cannon that looked as if it she could kill at a moment's notice. His eyes traveled down to red smears lining her shaky arms. His chest clenched, and he shook the thoughts. She would never attempt that.

"I said get the fuck out!" she snapped.

Tony looked her in the eyes. "Why can't you trust me?"

He watched her grit her teeth, but no answer left her lips.

Nodding slowly, he continued, "He isn't what you've been told. Declan is not out to get you."

"Then give me a damn reason why not!"

"I can't. I was told not to."

She looked away. "Because that's stopped you before?"

A brow rose. "What are you talking about?" Again he was met with silence. After all this time, he still would never be used to silent treatments. He swallowed again. Banner was right. She had changed. Despite Tony's words on the matter, he had assumed they would be fine when she finally came back. The woman before him was no longer Keeva—she wasn't even Skylar. How had he missed it?

Tony's chest clenched again as another realization dawned in on him. He had spent countless time and hours creating a safe haven for her in the tower. He blinked as a memory filtered across his mind. He had sworn to Declan long ago he would keep her safe. It was part of an agreement in exchange—_for what exactly?_

He shook his head again. For her, though, there were no more safe havens. There was no more innocence or security. There was no place she could call home. She was adrift and lost. And he was helpless to save her.

He was no hero. People cheered for Iron Man. No one cheered for Tony Stark. The devastation he caused worldwide with weapons dealing was now reflected in the cold, lost, jade eyes.

"Why are you still in here?" she growled.

Tony swallowed roughly. Perhaps if he told her the truth, she would come to see he had changed from the weapons' dealer he used to be. Maybe she would see he was someone she could rely on. There might be consequences, but any price he had to pay was worth trying to obtain Keeva again. "Declan wasn't after you. He was trying to protect you. Jarvis, bring up footage of Declan."

"Are you certain, sir? You were warned about consequences."

"Don't argue; just do it."

He watched as the wall to his right split, revealing a television. An image flickered onto the screen.

"_What is it you're getting at, Stark?" Declan growled._

"_I don't know what it's like for you because I've never dealt with that—thank God. But I know that I would do anything to keep Keevs safe. We both have that interest at heart. Except I don't know what I would do if I couldn't help my daughter because I was chained by laws."_

_Declan straightened up, his gaze shifting toward the floor._

_Tony took another step forward. "Because that's it, isn't it? Keevs is your daughter, and you're bound by rules stating you can't help her."_

"_If you had a child, you would bend whatever laws you could to keep them safe." Declan blinked. "I don't know what was worse, though, pretending like I didn't know who she was so I could stay in that facility with her or having to watch the things they did to her." Declan looked at him. "Be thankful they were not allowed to touch you, Stark."_

Tony looked at Keeva as the screen turned off and the wall slid back again. Her glower had vanished, leaving wide eyes in its wake. A tremor ran through her body.

"My… My father? Why didn't I… I should have seen that."

Tony relaxed against the doorframe. "You weren't looking for it. We've been too focused on this argument that I don't think either of us truly understands."

He watched her muscles stiffen and her eyes narrowed on him. He tensed in response.

"An argument we do not truly understand? You are failing to see the issue then."

"Then inform me of what the issue is because, _apparently_, I'm missing it."

He watched as she opened her mouth to speak, but he gasped as he felt claws wrap around his torso. _Consequences._ He watched as Keeva's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. He struggled to breathe as the claws tightened, and he was turned to face a large Praebolus. Its beady eyes glinted.

It growled. "You lose…"

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Skylar's jaw dropped as goose bumps flooded her skin and ice spread through her veins. The situation was different from the dream she had so long ago, but the result was apparently the same. She watched as the large charcoal grey creature—no, it was called a Praebolus—crushed Tony. Jarvis had warned of consequences. _Is this what the A.I. meant?_

"You can't do that!" Skylar snapped, gaining the Praebolus's attention.

It snorted. "_I do not deal with mere mortals._"

"You think I'm a mere mortal?"

Its head turned slightly to one side as it glanced from left to right. Its beady black eyes then focused on her. "_He broke the rules, and now it is his turn to finally suffer._" The Praebolus clenched its hand.

Tony gasped; his fingers clawing at the hand which held him. "Hey, you're a little too close for my comfort."

The Praebolus growled lowly as it focused its attention on him. "_You are of no longer of any concern._"

"What?" His brow furrowed, confusion spreading across his pale face.

Skylar blinked. Had the fact Stark brought up that video really caused the Praebolus to appear? Did that mean that Tony was telling the truth about Declan? Regardless, she didn't want to see the Praebolus kill him. She took a step forward. "Put him down."

A deep growl in the form of laughter rumbled from the Praebolus' throat as it turned toward her. "_Who do you think you are?_"

"Declan's daughter."

"_Prove it_."

Skylar's head tilted to the right, and her brow furrowed. How was she supposed to do that? Shouldn't the Praebolus already be informed of who she was anyway? "Shouldn't you just know that?"

"_That cub's been dead for years._" It chuckled. "_It's funny what happens to beings when they're told they're nothing._"

Her eyes narrowed, and her hands balled into fists. She wasn't exactly sure what it meant, but she had a feeling it was referencing her. As the Praebolus slammed Tony into the wall, she felt herself exhale and a soft whirl of wind surrounded her.

In seconds, four paws touched the rug. She pulled her lips back in a snarl as she quickly assessed the situation. Her eyes widened slightly when she realized that instead of being close to the ground like she had as a cub, she was much higher up. Too add to her confusion, her limbs felt longer and her muscles felt stronger.

The Praebolus stiffened, its beady black eyes wide. "_You… You know how to shift._"

"Drop him," she growled. Her muscles tensed.

Its eyes narrowed as it roared.

Skylar lunged. Hitting the Praebolus in the chest, they both tumbled through the wall, and Tony fell out of its grasp.

She glanced to where Tony struggled to rise. "Stark! Get your armor!"

The Praebolus clawed at her, drawing her attention back toward it. She dodged under its first attack and slashed at its face. It snarled in response. Another claw came at her. She rolled under it and leapt up, sinking her teeth into its shoulder. How she knew how to fight was beyond her. _Instincts…?_

Somewhere in the distance she heard the slightly familiar sound of a repulsor whine.

"Skylar!" Stark barked.

Her head snapped towards Tony, who stood near the gantry, as the armor crawled across him.

"Get out of there!" he shouted as a repuslor whined to life.

The Praebolus took a slash, and its claws connected with her chest, bringing her full attention back to the intruders. A yelp escaped her lips. She shook her head and turned to see three more Praeboli appear. Her ears stood straight, and her heart pounded against her ribs. The original one—who she assumed was the leader—snatched her up and slammed her into the flooring. She heard the stone shatter beneath her. Another sharp yelp escaped her lips. The ground trembled as one rushed Tony. In seconds, the other two had converged on her, claws slashing into her.

Skylar shut her eyes. She should know how to do this. She should know how to fight in this form. It was a part of her. It _was _her. As another claw bit into her chest, she bit back a cry, took a deep breath, and the next second, the lower half of her body banked left, and her tail wrapped around one's throat. With a tug, it slammed into the floor face first.

The leader slammed its free hand onto her muzzle, crushing the left side of her face into the floor, as it held her down. It allowed the other Praebolus to slash open her side and rake its claws down her rib cage. Her teeth grit as her lips pulled back allow a gasp to escape. A jagged breath past her lips. Her back legs pushed up allowing her claws to connect with its chest. She then dragged her claws down its sickly grey skin.

It let her go as it roared in agony. Somewhere in the chaos, she heard the whine of a repulse. A flash of light crossed her vision, and the Praebolus to the right disappeared in a _pop._

Skylar found her feet—_paws_—and limped backward, making sure to stand between the two remaining creatures and Tony—now fully encased in his armor. A few pants left her lips as the slashes across her chest began to burn. Her ears perked up as the leader roared and rushed forward. She took a deep breath that came out as a snarl and leapt at it. Somewhere in the distance a repulsor whine and a Praeboli popped.

She hit the remaining Praebolus. Her claws descended on its left eye. An agonizing snarl left its maws as its head rose. In the next instant, her jaws found its throat and her teeth ripped into its throat. With a pop, it disappeared as well.

Skylar found herself taking several breaths as she lay twitching on the cold, stone floor. Her eyes blinked as her gashes screamed in pain. It was several moments before she turned could focus and shift into a human. Something in her memory flickered: she had to treat the gashes.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He stood panting for a few seconds as his mind processed what had just happened. He heard the click of his metal hitting his knees as he leaned over and faced the ground. He had just taken down a few Praeboli that had attacked him after he told Keeva who her father was. _Declan wasn't joking._

He blinked. _Hold up. _Keeva had transformed into an enormous wolf—_a fucking wolf!_ Or what he assumed was a wolf.

She had been white with golden fur from her paws to elbows, on her underbelly, and her inner and top part of the outside of the ear—all of which caused some memory to stir but still left him clueless. Instead of a bushy tail, it was long and slender. The furs at the tips of her ears were split into two. As if that didn't startle him enough, she had collapsed and then turned back in a soft swirl of white smoke.

Tony straightened up and moved toward her. He watched as she struggled to her feet, chest heaving, body bruised and bleeding. She pushed past him and retreated to her room. His face plate slid up, and he followed her.

Inside her room, he saw her grab the knife from the bed and enter the bathroom. He rushed after her. "You don't think the Praebolus did a good enough job?!"

He almost tripped over her shirt which lay at the doorway. He glanced up. Keeva sat on the vanity in her bra and jeans. Pale faced and struggling for air, she traced a wound gently with her fingers. The edge of it was blackened—resembling a burn. As minutes ticked by, the black began to spread from the initial wound. He watched as she took a deep breath and cut along the perimeter of the black. The dissected black part of the flesh disconnected and fell into the sink where it disintegrated. The knife dropped from her shaky hands as tears filled her eyes.

In moments, Tony had broken free from his armor leaving the exoskeleton in the doorway. It had been as if someone flicked a switch on in his head. The Praebolus was dangerous because of the poison in its claws. A slash would cause the blackened edges and it would spread through the skin of the body, like a virus, until it had eaten the flesh. At the rate Keeva was cutting, she would be dead before she could even make a dent on the diseased flesh.

Tony grabbed a towel from the rack and the knife from the sink. He gently placed the towel in her mouth. "Bite."

He watched as the trembles shook her body. She nodded, and her teeth sank into the cotton as he made the next cut. She leaned back against the mirror as her white knuckles gripped the counter edge. After a few muffled screams that made him pause, he knew he had to get his mind off it.

"You're so fucking stubborn." He pulled away black flesh and dropped it in the sink. "I can't stand when you're like this. And I don't know how I know you get like this, but I do. You just have to show up and irritate me all the damn time. And I can't ever get rid of you, because I never want you to go anywhere."

Keeva took deep breaths—whimpers escaping her throat—as her frightened jade eyes watched him.

"You irritate the shit out of me, Keeva because you _never fucking listen_. You get into these situations where I have to rescue you, and if I can't, then I'm a failure. At least Pepper doesn't go _looking_ for trouble. It's like you want to be in a Lemony Snickett book or something. For fuck's sake, Keeva, you need to stop it. I can't always save you." He didn't realize that his heart rate and breathing had increased. He paused momentarily and looked at her.

Her right eye was nearly swollen shut and a dark reddish-purple bruise had formed on the right side of her face. He glanced down and noticed other bruises popping up among the missing flesh. He shook his head and looked at the remaining wound. Down the left side of her body—from the top of her rib cage to her hip—was an ugly quickly-spreading gash. He should have started with that.

Tony swallowed roughly as he started at the top of the gash. He moved the cotton of her bra in order to pull away the decaying flesh. He felt like he was skinning an animal. Swallowing roughly, he attempted to get his mind off the task. "Why the hell would you do this? What the fuck possessed you to come to my aid? We're not even talking. All we do is argue. All we do is yell. Why the hell did you go and put yourself in danger like this?" He ran the knife down to her jeans and tugged them down slightly to reach the end of black. A pit formed in his stomach. "Some days, I wonder why we're even friends."

After slicing up the other side of the wound, he placed the knife on the counter and tossed the last piece in the sink, watching it dissolve. Despite the muffled screams and whimpers he had blocked out, she had a high tolerance for pain. Most people would have fainted.

He sighed as he looked at her wounds. Before his eyes, her skin slowly crept across exposed flesh as it reconnected and healed. He took a breath and looked at her. "I didn't think that you would come back to me so broken. I never thought there'd be a time in my life where I didn't want you around and now… What am I supposed to do, Skylar? What is it you want from me? I can't remember the memories to back up these things I'm telling you. Everyone who's talked to me has said this is your fault. I know I should remember why you chose this, but I can't."

Tony looked at her. She watched him with silent, searching eyes. Despite everything he had just said, she still had nothing to say. His shoulders slumped. "And I can't hate you for it either. You've always got my back, Skylar, just like I've always got yours." He placed a hand on the left side of her cheek and gently ran his thumb over it.

The towel dropped as soft, quick breaths left her lips. He paused momentarily, hoping she would say something. Instead, his brow rose as her eyes became distant and she pulled slightly back from him.

His hand dropped. "God, Keevs… What'd they do to you?"

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

To say he was surprised that she ignored him after she healed was an understatement. On top of it, her behavior had only gotten worse. He had caught her on a few occasions, creeping from her room to one of the other floors or at times, even the kitchen. During one instance a loud crash had come from Banner's room, and she had been so scared that she raced for a kitchen knife.

Tony was no stranger to PTSD. In the past, he had it regarding his extended stay in Afghanistan. After the invasion and recent events, however, it plagued him with countless sleepless nights and endless flashbacks. Perhaps addressing it with her would place them on common ground.

By a stroke of sheer luck, he found her in the kitchen making a sandwich one day.

"That for me?"

She didn't acknowledge him.

"I like my sandwiches with turkey."

When she didn't respond again, he moved closer.

"So you're going to ignore me?"

She spun the lid on the Hellmann's mayonnaise and placed it in the refrigerator.

"Hey, Helen Keller, pay attention!"

"Yelling at a deaf and blind person is a pointless venture."

Tony crossed his arms. "But it got you to answer now, didn't it?"

She grabbed the sandwich and made to leave. He blocked her path. All desire to have a civilized conversation vanished. He could feel his blood pressure rising. "You're fucking kidding me. After everything that just happened, you're going to act like this? I can't live like this anymore."

"Then it is the perfect time to inform you I am leaving in the morning." She pushed past him.

"That's not what I meant, Keeva." He turned to face her. "I don't understand how you can go about not talking to me. It's never been this bad between us."

"You cannot remember most of the things in which you reference."

He shook his head. "How can you continue to be this obstinate? I'm practically begging you to talk to me. What else do you want me to say? Do you what me to admit that I missed you? Or that I was worried? Or the fact that I don't want you to leave?"

She finished her sandwich. "What is your issue with me, Stark?"

His eyes narrowed. "You change into a wolf, and you didn't say anything! You didn't tell me that Conrad was attacking or that Rhodey knew! I saved your ass the other night, and you treat me like nothing fucking matters! What the hell is wrong with you, Sybil?!"

He cried out when the palm of her hand connected with the left side of his face.

"Fuck, Skylar!"

"I don't give shit what you did for me! Nothing's changed!" She stormed off.

For a moment, he stood speechless as shock washed over him. _What the hell—_ He hadn't done anything to her. In fact, he'd saved her life by cutting away the flesh. Why was he still receiving the cold shoulder? In the next instant, as the sting of his cheek took over, he grew angry. _Why **is** she still angry? What gives her the right to hit me?_ Tony turned to chase her when Banner came out of the hallway. Stark glared. "What the hell do you want, eavesdropper?"

Banner took a moment to exhale. "If you attack her like this, Tony, you'll lose her completely."


	42. Cujo and the Hero

**Bonjour to all of my amazing readers! I hope your week's been well! This week was a little difficult. I hope it turned out all right. (Please forgive me if it's not) Let me know.**

**5 days left of students. WOO!**

**I hope you enjoy! Make it easier on yourself and follow. I'd love you forever for reviewing!**

* * *

"_Sometimes you gotta shut the hell up,  
__swallow your pride  
__and accept that you're wrong.  
__It's not giving up.  
__It's called growing up!"  
_—_Ritu Ghatourey__  
_

"You do realize she isn't mad at you, right?"

"Could have fooled me." Tony walked to the freezer and pulled out a bag of peas. He placed it against the left side of his face and sighed. "She was even worse than when she first came to live with me."

"Are you treating her the same?"

"I haven't changed."

Banner shook his head. "That's where you're wrong, and you know it. You've changed—you _know_ this. She has too. We've discussed this. And neither of you are going to solve whatever's going on if you're at odds."

Tony rolled his eyes. "So Dr. Phil, what's your prescription?"

"This isn't a joke, Stark. This isn't something that's going to go away—"

"Obviously, Banner. Get to the point."

"Tony, she's not the same."

"You've made that clear. Anything else you want to repeat?"

Banner pulled off his glasses and polished the lenses on his shirt. "You are never going to be in the same place you were. She's never going to be the person you met. You're never going to get that back. With that said, that doesn't mean she can't become who she's supposed to be. She's not someone that's completely gone."

"I can't fix her if she won't let me."

"You can't fix her at all, Tony. You can only _help_ her revive herself. The old her is dead. She can rise from the ashes however."

"Like a phoenix."

Banner nodded.

Tony breathed out slowly as he flipped the bag of peas over and blinked. He knew she wasn't the same. He wasn't a fool. That didn't mean that he didn't want her to be the same. She was fine the way she was. Why did Keeva have to be someone different now? Why did things always have to change?

He sighed. It was ironic how he planned for the future, but was so against change at times.

There was a part of him that was fearful. She was very different now. What if she never came back? Or worse, what if she blamed him? He had failed her. He hadn't gone after her. He hadn't rescued her. What kind of hero didn't save the day? His time spent without his suit only proved how inadequate he really was.

However, he couldn't keep up the same routine and expect things to change. _The perfect example of insanity: doing the same thing over and over and thinking a different outcome will happen._

He looked at Banner. "So what's your suggestion?"

"You have to yell it out."

"You're kidding right?" Tony rolled his eyes. "We already do that. Hasn't helped."

Banner shook his head again and returned his glasses to his face. "She's piled up all those emotions, and she's frightened. And one of you always exits before the real fight begins."

"So I'm supposed to let her yell at me?"

He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and moved towards the door. "No, you have every right to state your point. You just forget the fact she spent seven months thinking the only person who's ever really cared for her was dead and she had to go through Hell to escape. Someone needs to be the bigger person in that situation, and I don't think she's strong enough to be it."

_*TiC*TIC*TiC*_

Jarvis had informed him she was on one of the lower floors—which he hadn't exactly finished. The elevator doors slid silently opened. The light from inside illuminated the dark hallway. He stepped out, and the doors closed, taking the light with them.

As he maneuvered down the hall, dirt and dust swirled around his feet. From its appearance, no one had been down there in months. All the doors were closed. Silence bore down on him like a wraith. Jarvis obviously didn't know where Keeva had run off to.

As he turned back to the elevator, a dull light at the end of the hall caught his attention. It reminded him of a room lit only by the moon. _An open door?_

He softly walked towards the dim light and peeked into the room. A floor to ceiling window stood opposite. Curled in the corner, gazing out the window, he saw Keeva. The moon softly reflected off her blank face as she stared into the unknown. He wondered what she was really looking at.

Tony closed the door to the room behind him. He watched her startle and turn to him with wide eyes. "You ready to talk?"

"You're locking me in a room now?"

Tony walked toward her. "You're free to leave."

Keeva rose and stormed past him.

"However, if you leave, we're never going to get past this." He heard the door handle jiggle. After a few tense moments, he turned to find her behind him, staring at the ground. The look that crossed her face was a whirlwind of emotion from fear to anger.

Tony considered it a good sign she hadn't left the room. He took a steady breath as he began. "You knew my father."

"Apparently!" she snapped.

"You knew Loki was going to attack."

"I knew he wouldn't believe that gimmick! I had no idea he would blow the house off the cliff side!"

Tony's brow rose. Why was she being semi-cooperative now? Did she want to fix things? "You knew all this and didn't tell me?"

"You get cocky when you know something someone else doesn't! I couldn't take the risk of you opening your mouth and Conrad thinking something else was up!"

"You must have known he was going to blow up the house! Why get this tower?"

"I didn't think he'd blow up the house!" she snarled. "I thought you'd have _both_ places! And this place seems familiar!"

His eyes widened. Was she trying to blame this on him? "That still doesn't make you right for fucking lying! You knew _all_ these things, more than you said. You _lied_ to me! You kept up a facade! Is there anything else you'd like to share?"

"I think I'm all out of secrets."

Tony's arms crossed as his body tensed, and he narrowed his gaze. _Another lie._ "Oh, yeah, shape-shifter?"

She jabbed a finger at him. "It saved _your_ life!"

"Except I've _known_ for the last three weeks!"

Keeva paled. For a moment, he wondered if she'd break. Instead, her eyes narrowed. "Banner told you?"

He thought it was interesting she placed the blamed Banner. She didn't seem willing to take responsibility for anything. His brow rose slightly. "Loki gave you up."

Keeva crossed her arms. Her gaze turned toward the window behind him. "He shouldn't have told you."

"So if you didn't save my life the other night, then when were you going to tell me you could change?"

"You _knew_ I could shift!"

"Not into Cujo!"

"Fuck you!" She stomped towards the door.

He huffed. "What are you going to do? Run away again?"

She spun towards him. "I have nothing more to say to you, bastard!" She walked to him and looked up into his eyes. Her voice dropped a pitch, turning icy. "No _wonder_ Daddy left you."

Banner's words seemed to dissipate in the sudden anger that flared. Tony's eyes narrowed. "Get the fuck out!"

"Certainly, _hero._" He didn't miss her condescending tone. Nor the fact, her eyes changed slightly—narrowed less. She briefly nodded once as if she accomplished something, then spun for the door again.

He paused and sighed. Banner had stated that one of them always ran. Nine times out of ten, it was her. Keeva was always the one avoiding confrontation. That's why she couldn't be the bigger person—she couldn't handle it. She didn't know how, and she was purposely jabbing at his buttons in order to make him hate her. Why didn't he realize it sooner?

"You don't want this." He watched as she paused. "I know you don't mean what you say."

She shot him a narrowed glance. When she spoke, he heard the tone darken. "You think I'm lying? I see you for who you are. You are an asinine child with daddy issues who hides behind his ostentatious armor. You couldn't save Pepper, you couldn't save me, and you can't even save yourself. You spend your days drinking to stop the pain you feel inside." She shook her head. "You're no hero. Your armor might be, but you undoubtedly aren't."

His fists clenched at his sides. "I suppose I do have father issues. All those nights I spent wondering where my father was, my old man was tucking _you_ into bed." Tony paused, and his gaze shifted towards the ground. He took a steady breath. "I get why he did it. Declan was trying to keep everyone alive, so my dad chose to take care of you as best he could." He looked up at her. "I couldn't save anyone. You're right. I lost my house, my life, my sanity… And I'm not a hero. I should have tried to find you. I should have attempted something, but I didn't. I should have understood earlier that you're so fucked up from your stay in Hell. I was too aggravated by everything else to understand that you have every right to be a damn mute."

He saw a slight tremor run through her bones. Jagged breaths entered her lungs. Her nose flared, but her eyes remained narrow. "You didn't even bother to fucking look for me!"

Tony stiffened and placed his hands in his pockets. She had a point.

"You didn't look for me! You didn't bother! After everything I did for you, you fucking left me in Hell!"

"Keeva, I never intended for you—After the explosion and the coma—"

"Fuck you!" Her eyes narrowed. "You don't know what it's like to see that glowing circle of yours on a desk! Or how to deal with a scalpel being dragged through your arms!"

The glowing circle she alluded to was a minor detail, she admitted, but it caused him to swallow roughly. Maybe her issue wasn't the fact he left her in Hell. Maybe it was something she was trying to conceal. Maybe that's why she kept repeating herself.

He blinked. "It's not like I could come find you. I didn't get access to my armor or the workshop until two months after—"

"That's not an excuse, hero!" Her fists balled up. "I thought—You didn't fucking look for me!"

Tony watched as she stormed from the room. He bowed his head. Even if the fact he didn't go after her was a mask as to what was really wrong, she was still right. He had sat back and done nothing after Loki took her.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony sat at his desk, head against the smooth glass. A dry scotch glass inches from him. For the last hour, he had contemplated drinking the bottle—had gone as far to bring the bottle and a glass down to the workshop with him. However, some part of him realized it wasn't going to help. It wasn't going to change yesterday's showdown nor was it going to give him a better outcome in the long run. The fact remained that he had focused on himself when she had so desperately needed him.

He blinked and took a breath when he heard the elevator doors slide open.

"Bruce, not now." In the last twenty-four hours, Banner had tried several times to drag Tony from his workshop. "I'm serious."

He heaved a sigh when he heard the elevator chime in response. _Peace and quiet._

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

With a plate in his hands, he knocked on the door.

"Keeva?" Tony called softly through the wood.

Somewhere in the distance, the clock struck one in the morning, on a Friday; three days since he had argued with Keeva, and seventy-two hours from the last time he saw her. A part of Tony feared she was dead. He should have checked on her sooner.

"Open the door."

The dilapidated, blackened pancakes on the plate he held were cold and drowned from syrup. He placed them on the floor. What if she was…

"I said open the door. You can't keep this up!"

He was met with silence—which wasn't unusual. His chest heaved a sigh. "Are you okay? Are you alive?"

The only reason he didn't open the door was that he knew it would anger her more. He couldn't recall her being this angry with him ever—and he knew he'd said and done enough ridiculous things that had angered her. Opening that door and invading her privacy would most likely send her over the edge. He was already worried they would never recover from the fight they were in; he didn't need to add fuel to the fire.

He knocked again. "Please, Keeva."

The longer the silence echoed through the hallway, the more he realized that despite hoping, his chances of her emerging were slim to none. With both hands lightly pressed on the door, he leaned his forehead against the wood and closed his eyes. A slow sigh left his lips. In a million years, this is not how he imagined having her back would be.

"I wish you'd let me know if you're okay. I don't know if you're mad or dead or maybe both. Maybe you've left and didn't tell me. God, I just wish you'd—" His shoulders sagged and his voice lowered. "I know you're mad at me. You're mad because I didn't save you. I'm… I fucked up, Kee—Skylar. I just don't know what else you want from me. I can't fix things if you don't let me. I can't try if you don't let me."

This was his fault. He should have found a way of searching for her. He should have made that his main priority and now he was reaping the consequences. "Please, just… don't… I couldn't play the hero. I couldn't save you. I failed you. Please forgive me for that. Don't hold it against me. Keevs, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The only answer he received was silence.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Skylar leaned against the door for the better part of half an hour after Tony stopped speaking, before moving to a corner and hugging her knees to her chest. She wasn't sure she was mad at him. She wasn't even sure if he was truly alive. She wasn't sure of anything anymore.

She had gone to the workshop earlier, saw the untouched scotch on his desk and the anguish he seemed to be in as he lay against the desk. She heard the despair when he called through the door prior. It was impressive that his glass remained dry and the bottle corked. Wasn't he normally a drinker? Wait, since when did he ask for forgiveness?

A rogue tear threatened to break free. She swallowed and blinked. Just because he apologized didn't give her a reason to become emotional. At some point, someone else would come for her, and she would end up fighting for her life. It was a sick cycle she couldn't avoid. No one could save her.

She blinked. Tony had.

He had saved her from Conrad—_Loki_—the first time, and he was trying to save her now. Despite not rescuing her from Hell, he had been saving her for a while. After freeing her from Conrad, it was Tony who fed her and cared for her. He was the one who chased away her fears. Even after injuring her, he made sure she was healed. Despite so many villains in the world, Tony showed her a good person could exist in the midst of Hell.

When she finally moved from the corner, the green digits on the clock read _3:02._ Softly, she padded to the door, opening it a crack. She bit her bottom lip.

The soft blue light caught her eye first; in the darkness that engulfed the hallway, it shown as a beacon of hope. Her eyes quickly adjusted. Tony sat slumped against the opposite wall, legs stretched out in front of him. His head lulled slightly to the left, eyes closed. He'd be stiff in the morning.

Skylar crept past him and reached the kitchen where she put on the coffee pot. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a decent cup. Pulling two mugs from the cupboard, she yawned. Hopefully the brew would be done soon.

It chimed softly when done, and she poured two cups. She quietly maneuvered back to the hallway in time to see Stark wide-eyed and moving to get up. He paused when he saw her.

He yawned. "What are—?"

She settled next to him as he leaned back against the wall. She handed him a cup.

"What's this about?"

Skylar sipped and realized she didn't add any creamer. Perhaps it'd keep her up longer. When was the last time she slept? Her gaze shifted to the wall across from her. "I don't even… Where…"

He sipped. "Are you trying to add hair to my chest? This is strong."

She placed the mug next to her, and looked at the cup in his hands. "I don't know how you can still allow me to stay here. I don't know how you can drink the coffee I made. I don't know how you can still be around me. I don't even know how you can talk to me. I've been so rude and yet, _you_ apologized. I don't understand."

He didn't respond.

Her gaze dropped to the floor; her arms crossed to hide the tremble. She blinked and swallowed roughly. "I know I'm a mess. I know I'm fucked up. I know I'm this shattered being. I know I'm broken. I _know_ these things."

"Why are you making a big deal out of this?"

Skylar looked at him; his attention focused solely on her. "I don't ever see you forgiving me."

His brow rose. "Why?"

"All those things I said, that's unforgivable. I don't understand how you can still sit here with me. I don't understand how you let me stay here. I don't—"

He tilted his head slightly for a moment. "You came back."

"What?" She took a small breath.

Tony set his cup down on the floor and shifted slightly to face her. "I know you don't mean the things you've said. You're hurt, you're scared, and you're a mess. But you're not broken; you're just lost. I _know_ that you won't be found until _you_ want to be. I tried to force you. You've always been stubborn, and right now, you're confused. Despite all these things though, you came home. You didn't stay with Fury or run away again; you came back here."

She felt a tear rush from her eye and sprint down her cheek. Before she could brush it away, Tony's hand cupped the side of her cheek and his thumb brushed it away for her.

"And you are a hot mess. It's a little embarrassing that you're competing with Britney Spears. Do I need to hide the umbrellas?"

"You knew my hair was shaved?"

His eyes snapped to hers. "You were bald?"

She shrugged. "Apparently."

"I'm admitting you to the psych ward in the morning."

Skylar sighed. "I thought we were having a serious conversation."

"This is serious. Do you need a straitjacket?"

She looked away.

His fingers on her chin pulled her attention back. "What is it you're looking for me to say, Skylar? I've apologized; I've tried listening and jokes. What is it you _want_?"

Another tear slid down her cheek, followed by a third. He gently brushed them away. She blinked. "Please don't be done with me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A jagged breath passed her lips. "I know I've been a mess. Please just don't give up on me. Don't be done with me. I know I've fucked up. I just don't want you to get rid of me."

Tony nodded slowly. "Keevs, I'd never do that to you. You act like I'm heartless. Being arrogant is one thing, but throwing out a helpless damsel?"

"I don't want you to give up on me." His arm wrapped around her as she turned into his shoulder.

He slowly exhaled. "I haven't."

It was then a sob escaped her lips. "I thought you were dead."

His other arm wrapped around her and his cheek settled against her head. "I already told you; I'm the invincible Iron Man. They can't kill me."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

He had spent the better part of an hour fighting off the iron grip that tightened on his chest as she cried herself to sleep. Despite her mask of anger over his lack of searching, he had been right about it not being the main issue. From what he could understand—between the hiccups and sobs—she had been terrified he was dead. Any further information or thoughts were lost in her shudders and tears.

The clock read quarter to five by the time he tucked her into the silvery-blue sheets. Tony had momentarily worried that blood would be on these sheets but relaxed when they were clean.

Tony blinked. He had seen many things over the years, but dealing with the aftereffects of Hell first hand was something he didn't remember. He sighed and pulled the covers around her.

Keeva startled. Blinking away sleep, she looked up at him. "What are you doing?"

"You need to sleep."

She pushed up from the bed, limbs stiff. "I'm not going to sleep."

"Keevs—"

"No!" she snapped.

"Why not?"

Jagged breaths left her lips as her head shook back and forth. Her wide eyes darted around the room.

His brow furrowed momentarily as he fought off a yawn. "You're scared. Aren't you?"

She blinked and shivered.

"What scares you?"

She swallowed roughly, and he watched her glossy eyes turn to him. "That you won't be there when I wake up. That I'll be back in Hell. I don't want to go back. I don't want you to be dead."

"I'll be here when you wake up."

She crossed her arms.

"You need to sleep."

She shook her head. "I can stay awake. I don't need to sleep."

His shoulders slumped as he felt lead filling his limbs. "No, you can't, Keeva. Both of us need rest. We're never going to end up on common ground if we're exhausted."

"You won't be here when I wake up." Her voice cracked.

He seated himself next to her and felt his eyes momentarily flutter. She was a lot more stubborn when she was tired. "I'll be alive. We'll be okay."

A small gasp left her mouth. "I've had nightmares before. You're there and then I wake up, and you're gone. You're… dead."

"Those were dreams. This is reality."

"Is there a difference anymore?" She gazed up at him, wide-eyed.

Tony pursed his lips. He couldn't deny that the lines of reality and dreams had long past blurred. He had trouble figuring out which was which. "I'll be here when you wake."

"Then don't leave. You're just as tired as I am. Stay…"

Tony sighed. Between her frown and pleading eyes, sometimes there was just no arguing with her. He slipped off his shoes and lay next to her. "Better, zombie?"

She hesitated, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. After a moment, she sighed and nodded. Her body relaxed and her eyes fluttered.

"You think the boogeyman's under the bed or in the closet?"

Keeva shifted a pillow under her head, hugging it tightly. She yawned. "The boogeyman's the least of my concerns."

"Are you sure? Do you want me to check? I can. I don't even need my armor for that."

He smirked as her brows rose. The look she gave him was clearly a "bitch, please". It gave him hope. Perhaps the girl he used to know was in there. Whatever that place had done to her, perhaps it hadn't destroyed her completely. The smirk slipped from his face. "What did they do to you, Keeva?"

She swallowed roughly and looked away.

Tony was silent for a few moments before speaking. "You should never have had to deal with any of that. It wasn't right. You don't deserve to be tortured." He reached over and ran his fingers down the side of her face. She winced and pulled back. He sighed as he thought back to his conversation with Banner and realized she had just proven she was gone. "You're not you. You're not Keeva."

"Because I won't let you touch me?" Her eyes narrowed. "That doesn't mean—"

"No, Skylar. I mean you're not the same. You're… You're lost."

Her eyes drifted to his reactor and she nodded. "I've been gone a while. I… I don't know how to come back. I don't know if I'll ever…"

Silence radiated through the room. Keeva hugged the pillow tighter as her eyes glazed over. His shoulders sagged. The Keeva he had once known was long gone. He would never have a chance to see her again. This woman that replaced her was much darker and withdrawn. He feared their days of banter had left when she did.

Tony watched as her body slowly unwound and her eyes closed. He wouldn't be surprised if this was the first time she let herself relax and sleep normally—if that's what she was doing. When he went to move, he found his own body unwilling to move. He forced himself onto his back. The next step was rolling off the bed.

"Tony?"

He looked back over at her; her eyes still shut. "Yeah, Keevs?"

"I can shape-shift into a wolf creature," she mumbled. "The Necrotaur attacked me, and I shifted. I didn't know I could. I should have told you."

He smirked. "It's okay, Cujo. It's a good thing you can shift. It saved both of us."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony awoke on his back; soft golden light beginning to filter in to the room. The area around him was silent. Despite him vaguely remembering how he got there, he was quite comfy. He felt the muscle in his left arm randomly twitch—probably just waking up as well. He let out a long breath and felt his body relax. That was when he felt it.

At first, he didn't know what it was; all he knew was that a warm weight was on his body. His eyes glanced to his right. An arm lay beside his head. His eyes shifted to his left. A fuzzy halo of golden hair filled his sight. He felt a leg—actually _her_ legs—intertwined with his. He paused. He was still clothed right? _Check._

He relaxed. Declan would kill him if _that_ happened.

Tony sighed and his gaze traced across the ceiling. The first thing that ran across was the wind blowing through the background—_winds of change_. He smirked at the absurd thought. His glance then bounced between the eleven stars—_the major realms_. He shook his head. The moon which seemingly glowed gently on the top right caught his attention next. There was a myth surrounding it: something about Ragnarok and the end of the age, but he couldn't recall details.

His gaze settled on a dark spire, clawing its way toward Heaven on the left side. It stood ominous over the small village below, glowering on all who resided there. The only things that seemed to challenge it were a white steeple—standing tall and defiant—and another building beside it: _guardians of the village_.

Tony shook his head. How he had let his mind get carried away so that he was overanalyzing a simple picture was beyond him. He had _Starry Night_ painted across the ceiling because he knew she liked it and nothing more. He couldn't remember how he knew she did—like every other random thing he knew—but he knew it was her favorite.

It was the same way he knew she loved sangria, enjoyed playing chess, and that her middle name was Keeva.

No, he _remembered_ that last one.

_He walked around the corner and saw her lying on the white couch. Her left leg was fully casted and propped on the back of the couch. Her right arm was casted as well and held snug against her chest by a sling. Her brother had asked—begged—him to keep her safe there until she recovered._

_Her eyes flicked to meet his. He watched as she bit her bottom lip._

"_Keeva, right?"_

_She shook her head. "No, sir, it's Skylar."_

"_Right. Keeva's your middle name."_

_She nodded._

How exactly _did_ he know her? The fingers of his right hand traced patterns slowly up and down her spine. How was it that their lives had intertwined?

Declan had only given hints and half-truths. Loki hadn't been any more forthcoming. Amora was a waste of time. What was he missing? He bit the inside of his cheek.

They knew each other. They knew the people who had been killed or disappeared. There were pawns everywhere. Everything was connected. Everything looped back to Keeva. The key was finding out what she had done. The only issue was no one knew.

Tony's brow rose. That wasn't true. Declan had alluded to a ring leader and Loki had confirmed it. There was someone else playing games—_pulling the strings_. Loki stated Tony had yet to actually meet the man in charge of everything. But what about Keeva? She had met him, hadn't she?

His thoughts traced back to the issue in the workshop so long ago. She had been fearful of a man who was in the workshop with her. Jarvis had never detected him. However, the man seemingly continued to haunt her, and he was still unaccounted for. Who was he?

Tony wasn't positive, but he'd be willing to bet a hefty sum that man was the ring leader. He gently slid Keeva off of him and rose from the bed. He made his way down to the workshop and turned on the monitors. There had to be something more he was missing.


	43. I'll Never Tell

**Hey lovelies! I hope your week is going well! Tomorrow's the last day of school and then one week before summer camp starts! Oy vey! The break is coming!**

**Hope you enjoy! Have a lovely week. Please review! And make it easier on yourself by following since I don't always get this out on Thursdays.**

* * *

_"We don't heal in isolation,  
but in community."  
__―S. Kelley Harrell__  
_

"Why are you wearing that hood?"

Tony's attention was pulled from the articles on the screen by a soft voice behind him. He glanced back at to see Keeva rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she approached. He shrugged. "Well, if you weren't trying to freeze out the tower…"

Despite the small smile that graced her face, something in her eyes seemed off. "I like to be cold."

"So you can live with penguins?"

"I like to be curled up with—"

"Me?"

"—Blankets," she finished as she halted behind him. "I don't like being cold so I can cuddle."

Keeva's jade eyes searched his. He remained silent for a few minutes, allowing the peace and quiet to wash over the workshop. While he felt strands of awkwardness hanging in the air, the tension was removed. However, that slight off-look in her gaze caused him to bite the inside of his cheek.

His brow furrowed. Maybe they hadn't made the progress he assumed. "Are we all right?"

She bit her lip and shrugged. "Are you mad at me?"

He shook his head. "As long as you promise to make turkey sandwiches and clean, I think we'll be fine."

"Isn't slavery illegal?"

"Depends on who you ask."

Keeva rolled her eyes. "So we're okay?"

"Are _you_ all right?" he questioned. "I mean, I'm not going to have to grab a straitjacket, am I?"

She shoved her hands in the jacket pockets and looked at the ground. "I'll… I'll be okay. I mean, it's okay. I'm not there anymore. So I'll be okay. I mean, it wasn't exactly fun waking up this morning… You know, alone. But I'm okay. You-You're here. I'm not in confinement. Conrad's not around. You're here."

"That's a lot of okays for one sentence."

She shrugged.

"And you said I was here _twice_," he stated, holding up two fingers.

She pushed his hand down before crossing her arms. "Well, when you wake up alone in a slightly strange place it's a bit terrifying for the first ten minutes."

Tony winced. That explained the look in her eye and the slight edge to her appearance. "Well, like you said I'm here."

She swallowed roughly and nodded.

Tony reached out, grabbed her arm, and tried to pull her closer. She refused to budge. "Why are you here? Looking for your pillow?"

A slight pink came to her cheeks. "You're letting things get to your head again."

"Wait, that stopped?" He watched her smile slightly. He wondered if she felt the awkwardness.

Keeva shifted her weight to her other foot. Her voice was soft when she spoke. "I want to feel normal again."

"It's been almost seven months, and I still haven't found that place."

Her shoulders slumped, and she gazed at the ground. "I don't…" A heavy breath left her lips.

"Keevs?"

She shook her head. "I just feel…"

Tony smirked. "Okay?"

Keeva winced as she shifted her weight again. "I don't even know how I feel. I'm so confused and overwhelmed. I'm scared and anxious. What ifs are all I can think of. And I don't know how to go back to us."

A brow rose. What was that supposed to mean? "Us?"

She tensed momentarily before taking a breath. She hesitated before looking at him. "We had this weird relationship. We somehow knew how to work together. It's like you said: even though we don't know how, you always had my back and I always had yours."

"Paraphrasing my words?" He smirked.

"You think I'm going to admit I'm stubborn?"

"It might help."

Her arms crossed as she slowly rocked side to side. "I just… You asked the million dollar question. Are we okay? I know we've had our fights before, but I said some truly terrible things."

"I've heard worse." He watched as she bit her lip. He leaned back and sighed. "Honestly, we can't go back to the way we were, Keeva. It's not possible. We're different. We've changed. You know this; you said as much last night."

She nodded slowly, her gaze focusing on the smooth cement floor.

"But you already knew we couldn't go back, didn't you?"

Her head tipped slightly to the right in acknowledgement.

He took a breath before continuing. "So it's not a surprise. Neither of us are the same, Keevs. We've been through too much to still be the people we were seven months ago. That weird relationship is long gone. Those days are gone. We can move forward, though." Her glossy jade eyes flicked to his. "We can adapt to the new normal."

"But I'm _not_ normal. Even less so now. And I'll never _be_ normal; I'm just a broken mess."

"You're not broken, Debbie Downer. You're bent. There's a difference."

"I'm not me."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You are you. You just forgot. The way you are now is more you than you've _ever_ been. And you need to stop hiding because your Cujo side is helpful. I seriously thought about hiding in a Pinto."

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

He shook his head. "Point being, Keevs, you just aren't used to being you. It'll take some time. Anyway, I'm hungry. Let's go eat."

"By eat, you mean I have to cook, don't you?"

Tony smirked. "Well, some things never change."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

_No matter what anyone tells you, you don't just magically return to normal after you go through hell. It's not something you magically forget or something that ceases to be a part of your past. No, instead the hell keeps going on long after the physical scars fade. In a way, it intensifies; it forces the mind to spend every waking moment arguing over what's real and what isn't._

"Keevs, what are you thinking about?"

Her eyes focused on the chess board before her, and she blinked. Skylar looked up as he slid in the seat across from her. In the last few days they had played countless games to help calm her nerves whenever an episode seemed to rear its ugly head.

_Episodes. _She winced as her muscles tightened. Now that she was around Tony, she began to see them. She hadn't realized they were happening before because she had hidden herself from the world. The darkest corners of the tower would never speak of what they saw or heard. Tony, however, didn't give her a chance to become numb again and hide with his constant banter and incessant questioning of how she was or how she felt. Even if she tried to retreat to her room, he followed her.

She was grateful. He kept the shadows and nightmares at bay. When he was around, she could usually sleep without fear, and that alone had improved her attitude. He wasn't out of the woods because she still had tendencies to suddenly become angry for no reason at all, but he dealt with it by teasing her about something else.

It had taken her a while to pick up on the fact he was using some form of psychotherapy in order to bring her back to the land of the living. He had started with banter and questions, but eventually progressed into scaring her by creeping up behind—which resulted, on several occasions, in her shifting into a cub and hiding in cabinets—or having a loud, sharp sound echo through the tower.

Skylar wasn't sure how Banner—who was more of a recluse than she had ever been—was able to handle Tony's antics since he was normally affected as well, but in the end it stopped mattering. The more Tony tormented her, the easier it became for her to relax during the day and sleep at night—mostly because he stayed with her. Nightmares seemed to disappear and her mind stopped dreaming up what horror might come for her next.

The only thing Skylar couldn't shake was the fears and memories of him dying. No matter what he did, she generally avoided anything that had to do with reactors, Iron Man, and death. If an episode started to come on because she happened to be too close to one of those topics, Tony normally dragged her to the chess table set up in a corner of the living room. By the time she finished kicking his ass—and munching on Cheetos—she usually had forgotten about the terror that plagued her before.

"Keeva, you okay?"

She blinked and focused on him. "Shouldn't I be?"

"You seemed like a mannequin. Not sure how normal that is."

She forced a tiny smile and moved a pawn. A small bit of relief lapped over her. "I promise I'm okay."

"Then your promises are crap." He smirked and moved a piece forward.

Her brow furrowed. "Why?"

"You wouldn't have started the game if you weren't stuck in the barriers of your mind again. And we both know you're not all right. You're not going to be all right for a while."

Her brow wrinkled, and she moved a piece. "I'm dealing with it. Or… We are. Don't worry, Tony."

"Who said I was worried?"

Internally, she winced. She hadn't meant to imply—but he was always hounding her about how she was. _Stark..._

"Did you sleep last night?"

"Yes."

"That's funny because you were clearly moving around the tower."

Skylar moved a piece forward. "Concern yourself with your own sleeping habits."

"Competing with me, are you? Or could you not sleep because I wasn't there?" The smug smirk that crossed his face clearly stated he had won that fight.

She moved a bishop forward. "I'll be okay, Tony. You don't need to hound me."

"You dealt with some dark things, Skylar."

The use of her first name immediately caught her attention and she looked at him.

"I can't imagine how you even walked out of there to begin with," he said softly.

She paused. He had a point. There were times she even wondered how such a feat was managed by the assassin. "Natasha carried me. But it was only by a miracle we escaped those demons."

Tony was silent for a moment and shuddered once as more pieces moved across the board. She studied him quietly as the game continued. Despite his calm demeanor, she saw a focused look in his eye—as if he was trying to forget something. Skylar bit her bottom lip. Perhaps she should have paid more attention when he stated he was dealing with other things and couldn't come find her. _Does he understand more than I think?_

She moved a rook across the board. When she spoke, her voice was soft. "They scare you."

He looked at her. "Who're they?"

"The demons."

He shook his head. "It's not a big deal. That's in the past."

"But they still scare you."

He sighed and moved another piece forward. "Fine, I'll give you that one. Being attacked by them isn't exactly on the top of my to-do list. Either way, after facing the demons you have, you can't be all right."

"It's not as if I'm the only one who's seen them."

"Whatever you witnessed there has to be worse than anything I dealt with."

She looked up at him, and swallowed roughly. "I will be okay."

The intense gaze he pinned her with caused Skylar to squirm in her chair. Her fingers flexed once as her teeth bit the inside of her cheek.

"I don't think I've _ever_ heard someone use the word 'okay' as much as you have," he said. "And you're obviously _not_ okay."

The firmness of his statement caused a wall inside her to crumble. She took a deep breath to steady herself. He moved another piece and looked up at her.

"You messed up the chess game. You _never_ lose," he continued. "Checkmate."

Skylar looked down at the board. In the midst of arguing that she was _okay_, she had sacrificed all her pieces, leaving only the queen and king. The way his pieces were positioned there was no possible way for the queen to defend the king. She should have concentrated more on the game. She wouldn't have lost if she had been protecting the king.

"Cat got your tongue?"

She bit her tongue as her shoulders slumped. Her muscles stiffened to stop the tremors that fought to break free as the wall came tumbling down. She stifled a gasp. This was against what she had sworn on the island. She didn't need anyone, especially if she was just going to wake up and find him dead. She rose and walked a few steps away before freezing. Where was she going to go? Where could she hide?

"Keevs? What's wrong?"

Skylar glanced to the chessboard as the king fell over and rolled off the table. It clinked on the stone as it settled. Her body tensed. _No…_ She struggled to breathe. _Retreat!_ She forced herself to her room. Once there, she moved to the closet and started throwing things aimlessly into a duffle bag. She had to get out.

In moments, she felt his presence standing in the doorway. She glanced to him. His arms were crossed, and his feet slightly spread and firmly planted as though he would keep her from leaving at all costs. Skylar watched his chest rise and fall gently. He was alive... The cavity that finally opened inside her chest was horrid. Her heart had seemingly twisted in spastic circles and then was torn out piece by piece. Tears immediately stung her eyes. She looked at him as her fingers flexed and gasps left her lips.

He was in front of her as tears crashed down.

She felt his arms wrap around her. His voice was whispered softly in her ear, "You're okay, Skylar. You're safe now. You don't need to be afraid."

Her body tensed as her hands balled into fists. _Crimson eyes had settled on her. 'Are you lost, little cub? Perhaps I can be of assistance.' _Her heart hammered against her ribs. She didn't want to be there—Tony couldn't save her there. '_Is that a fearful heart I hear?' The vampire lunged._

"No!" She shoved him in a desperate attempt to escape. "No! Let me go!"

The arms pulled her closer. "Keevs, you're here with me. You're not in the facility. You're safe."

As the gentle scent of coffee reached her senses, she smacked him. _Not the shifter!_

She locked her jaw as a scream erupted and died in her throat. Escaping his clutches, she tumbled into the wall. Hangers snapped as clothes crashed down on her. It was then that a few sobs left her lips. She pulled her knees to her chest as cold terror flooded her veins. The image of the king falling over burned through her mind's eye.

She wasn't sure how long she hid—sobbing—in the clothes, but Skylar blinked away tears as the fabric was finally pulled off her face. A shaky breath left her lungs as she looked at Tony—a red handprint forming on the left side of his face. Her face fell as she buried her head into her hands. She was a mess. For every step forward she made, apparently she had been pushed ten steps back. _I haven't recovered at all._

When she finally gathered the courage, she peeked through her fingers. Tony sat patiently on his knees before her. Her shoulders slumped as she hesitated. After a moment, she buried her head into his chest as her fingers death-gripped the fabric of his shirt. She felt him move next to her and wrap his arms around her. Her body relaxed into his, finally feeling safe for the time being.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

She startled awake as his body tensed under her.

Skylar sat up and watched as his limbs and face twitched. Tony gasped softly for air as he murmured. She shouldn't have been surprised this happened after what had gone down earlier.

_Through the glass, she saw him. He stood on the patio gripping the glass railing and taking deep breaths; his face bowed toward the ground as beads of sweat dripped down._

_She walked out the door and across the balcony. A slight breeze kissed her cheeks and fluttered through his dark brown hair. His distressed breaths reached her ears even before she had gotten to him. She could faintly hear the frantic pounding of his panicked heart._

"_I think I'm dying," he gasped as she reached him._

_She shook her head. Her voice softened to a gentle whisper. "What frightens you?"_

_His muscles tightened as he gagged. He cleared his throat and tried to shake his head._

_Skylar's hand gently ran up and down his trembling back as her other fingers turned his clammy face toward hers. She watched his eyes settle on hers and a deep breath passed his lips. His grip relaxed from the railing, and she heard his racing heart calm._

_Stepping closer, she ran her thumb across his cheek. "What scares you, Tony Stark?"_

_He blinked and licked his dry lips. His head slowly shook. "There are other things out there. Gods… Aliens… I'm not—There are more powerful things out there than I. At the end of the day, I'm just a mortal."_

"_There's always something more powerful, Tony. It's okay that you're only mortal. It doesn't make you any less."_

"_I'm not anything!" He shook his head and tried pulling away. "People only care for the armor. They hate me."_

"_They don't." She allowed him to take a step backward. A moment of silence passed before she continued. "There's something else that terrifies you, though."_

_He turned away.__"I couldn't protect Pepper—couldn't save her. I'm just a mortal, a mortal who can't… who can't save you either."_

_A ghost of a smile lined her lips as she moved forward. Her hand reached up, settling on his face and her thumb brushed over his goatee. "You don't always need to be the hero. Sometimes it's better to just be yourself. I don't think you realize that by doing that, you've saved me more than your armor ever could."_

"Tony?" Skylar gritted her teeth as he lashed out. "Tony, wake up."

She choked back a yelp as his fist connected with her face. _I think I deserved that._ In the next second, he bolted upright, hitting his forehead against hers. _And I think we're even now._

"Lights!" he gasped.

Skylar squinted as the lights came on. She looked to Tony as her eyes adjusted.

"You really shouldn't sit so close to someone sleeping." He rubbed his forehead. "Now I'm going to have a lump right here."

She could feel her cheek sting and saw the concern in his eyes as he looked at her. He started to move his hand to her cheek before freezing. She swallowed. "What plagues you, Tony?"

She watched him look away again. He blinked before turning back to her and placed the hand on her knee. His gaze dropped to where he touched her. "The portal."

"The one the Tesseract opened?"

Tony nodded.

"Why is that?"

He gaped for a moment before responding. "There are other realms out there. Realms that are dangerous. There are things I can't account for. I can't plan if the future is uncertain."

Skylar placed her hand over his. The basic fears he displayed almost mirrored her own. Her shoulders relaxed. Underneath his defenses, he understood everything she was going through. Everything thing that ailed her mentally, he clearly knew well. She pursed her lips momentarily before looking at him. She wished he didn't understand. She didn't want him to know what it was like to be a trauma victim—the fear, the horror, the uncertainty; those moments of hell and chaos when you couldn't breathe or see the real world anymore. She took a deep breath. "You've known there are other realms for a while. This should not come as a surprise."

"But I never…"

She caught his gaze and held it. "Seeing is believing, isn't it?"

He nodded as his eyes closed. He gritted his teeth momentarily before looking at her again. "What if I can't protect you?"

She smiled as a soft chuckle crossed her lips. "Have you seen what I shift into? I think we're both safe."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

In the days that followed he noticed a change. While she still couldn't sleep unless he was around, her eyes became brighter, and her features softened. It didn't take much for a smile to cross her face or a laugh to find its way out. There were still moments where she'd break into tears for fear he was dead, but those were easier to deal with than the distant look and the hiding. He also picked up on the fact she was normally attached to his hip. There were rare moments where she sought out Banner or wanted a moment to herself, but more often than not, she stayed close to him. He didn't mind; it made it easier to keep an eye on her—and easier to sleep at night.

Tony currently lounged on the couch—alone—watching ESPN highlights. The break from sifting through information was more than welcomed by the Stanley Cup highlights. He was surprised Keeva hadn't made an appearance since normally she seemed to appear whenever hockey was on the screen.

"Do you have anything in the cupboards to cook?"

He glanced up as Keeva walked into the room. _Must have heard the game._ "You've been _in_ them recently. Have you seen anything?"

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "You should know. They're your cupboards."

He fought off a smirk. "Do I ever cook?"

"You made hot pockets."

"If that's what you want, there's like four different flavors in the freezer."

"You're not hungry?"

His smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. "Are you making me a sandwich?"

"No," she retorted. "I want dinner."

"Sandwiches are dinner."

Tony watched as Banner walk up behind Keeva. "I could go for something else other than sandwiches."

"Conspiring against me?" questioned Tony.

Keeva rolled her eyes and moved to the kitchen.

Stark glanced at Banner before rising and trailing her to the kitchen. The smirk spread across his face. "So did you come from Banner's room?"

He heard a grumble as Keeva dug through the freezer. She shut the freezer and looked at him. "You think that there's something going on between us?"

"You never know. Maybe you two _bonded_ in the Helicarrier."

Tony watched as she rolled her eyes and turned toward a cupboard. He was glad she was back—in a physical sense. He had missed bantering with her. Steve, Jac and, Banner had been great substitutes, but nothing replaced tormenting her—now that she could handle it.

Tony watched her eyes light up as she pulled a jar of sauce and a box of spaghetti from the cupboard—_it's the little things._ He glanced over as Banner entered the kitchen and seated himself on a stool. "You're just in time. I was asking when the wedding is."

Banner's brow furrowed. "Wedding?"

Stark chuckled as he dug through a cupboard and pulled out two pots. He placed one on the stove and filled the other with water before placing it on the stove as well. The knob turned under his fingers as a clicking sound echoed through the air before the burner lit and began to warm the water. Keeva stared at him with her head slightly cocked to the right.

"What, E.T.?"

She was silent for several moments. "You know where the pots are kept?"

"That's the best you can come up with?"

"It was between that and asking if you knew how to boil water."

"Both of which fight for the worst joke award," he chided.

Keeva shook her head. She grabbed salt from the cupboard as Tony opened the sauce and poured it into the other pot before turning on that burner as well.

"When did you get so helpful?"

Tony leaned against the back counter. He watched as—despite not needing to—Keeva rose to her tip toes and poured salt in the pot. "I changed a bit while you were gone."

She returned the seasoning to the cupboard and walked to the fridge. After pulling two water bottles from it, she walked to Banner and handed him one. Keeva then took a sip from her bottle.

Tony glanced between them. "When did you two become such _good_ friends?"

Keeva shrugged. "Obviously you're not around _all_ the time."

"It's unacceptable," Tony replied and crossed his arms.

"Why can't I be friends with Banner?"

"Because it's Banner."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her brow rose.

Bruce chuckled. "He's like the kid on the playground that doesn't want to share his toys with anyone."

"I'm a toy?" Her brow rose.

"In a way. Stark likes to be center of attention and right now, his toy is playing with the other kid."

"Oh, this is a form of jealousy?"

Banner nodded.

"So, Banner." Tony narrowed a look at him. "Did you really try to kill yourself?"

Keeva choked on her water. "Oh my God, Tony. You can't just ask people that!"

"Calm down, meme quoter. I'm just curious."

"That's rude! Just because you're not the center of attention doesn't mean it's okay to say those things!"

Banner chuckled slightly. "It's fine, Skylar. I can handle it." He looked at Tony. "I thought we went over this, but I got low and wanted a way out."

"Why?" Tony questioned.

"I couldn't—_shouldn't_—be around people. I lost everything. There was nothing to live for."

Keeva swallowed roughly and looked at the water in her hands.

Banner continued, "It made sense that suicide would be the best way out. It would stop the pain."

Tony shifted his weight to the other foot. "What made you think that was the best option? I mean, thinking it is one thing—we've all done that. But actually attempting is another."

"There was nothing left at that point, no one to live for."

Tony's brow rose.

"No point in greeting the dawn because everyone you care about is long gone," Keeva added softly to which Banner nodded.

Stark paled. He knew what the blood on her wrists might mean, but he never allowed himself to realize she had attempted it. That's why Banner and she got along so well. God, he looked like a self-centered ass.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

"What was Declan like?"

Tony lounged on the chair in her room; both hands behind his head. "About as transparent as you."

Keeva walked over and settled on the arm rest. "Did you like him?"

"He's a good man, Keevs; loves you a lot."

"Did he blame me for the past?"

Tony shook his head. It was only a matter of time before she started questioning about her father. He was surprised she hadn't done so earlier; she had to be dying to know more. "I don't think he could ever blame you. You're his kid."

She lay back on the chair and looked at him. "But what if he did? I know this is my fault. I don't know how, but I know it is."

"Keevs—"

"If I did something," she continued, "then that's the reason we're in this predicament, right? And the reason why all these people are dead? Don't you blame me?"

Tony wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. He shifted slightly as she fell into the chair next to him. "Hey, negative Nancy, shut the fuck up for a second. First, I'll blame you when I deem it to be your fault. Second, bad things happen. You can't stop them despite the choices you make. It's life. Third, let's stop thinking about the past."

Keeva's brow furrowed. "Move on from the past?"

Tony took a deep breath. "Pepper told me a while ago to stop dwelling on what had happened. We can't change it nor fix it. It's time we moved forward. Perhaps we'll get more answers that way."

"Like Hakuna Matata?"

"Exactly."

She shook her head. "But don't I—we, everyone?—have a right to know what happened?"

"She said one day it would all make sense. But obviously that's not today," he explained. His brow rose as he smirked. "What you do have at this moment is the right to be happy."

Keeva looked away. "But..."

Tony's fingers landed on her chin and he brought her eyes to his. His voice softened. "Keevs, the grass isn't greener on the other side. It only looks greener because you're standing in the middle of your yard and can't see how amazing the entire thing looks."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

A smirk lined her lips as her fingers intertwine in the soft fabric of his hood and pull it down. "What'd you want?"

He tapped on the glass table. "I found a few more files on you."

"That's probably not hard at this rate. They seemed to document everything." Skylar looked at the screens as information disappeared only to be replaced by other files.

"They seemed to want you for a power source."

"You mean you haven't guessed that already?" She chuckled and glanced about the workshop.

On a table a few feet away sat fragments of his armor—a hand, a foot, and both more gold than red. A brow rose momentarily as she wondered what he was up to. Her gaze then shifted beyond that where his previous armor sat displayed behind glass. Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember how many she had boxed. She could have sworn there were seven. Including the one she had seen during the Chitauri battle, there would be a total of eight. If that were the case, why were there nine now? What had he been working on? And which did the pieces on the table belong to?

Skylar shook her head, and turned back to the screen. "I'm not as powerful as the Tesseract, you know. And it's like you said, everything comes with a price."

A schematic of the facility popped up. The same dots that flecked the map she had seen in the facility speckled this one as well. Tony clicked on the lower section and then on the containment chamber she was held in. A virtual outline of it appeared before them.

"You must be _something_," he chided. "You were kept in the deepest section and under high security watch. That definitely says competitor."

She scoffed and her elbows settled gently on his shoulder; her chin resting on the top of his head. "So was the necrotaur. They called it NT-818."

"Him," Tony corrected gently.

"What?"

"The Necrotaur was a him. And his name was Marko. He was friends with your father."

Skylar nodded softly. He brought up another outline showing a closer look at the containment chamber she was kept in. She bit her lip, and her eyes dropped to the glass desk. _Time Magazine_ sat on the corner. A picture of Stark in a black suit was plastered across the cover with the headlines: _"The Technology God"_.

She scoffed. "Technology god? That's a bit farfetched, no?"

"I don't come up with the titles. I actually rather like that one, but you're getting away from the point." He threw the magazine on the sofa, causing her to have to readjust her position. "Anyway, it looks like they were trying to use you like I do the reactor—except the reactor isn't a living, breathing human. They apparently wanted to keep you dormant, but harness whatever you can do. Loki said they put a chip in you to contain your powers. He also thought it was counterproductive."

"Not entirely." She held out her right arm—slightly red from her constant scratching. She pointed to a spot on her right forearm between the ulna and the radius. "It was tucked away in there. While it hindered most of my powers, at certain times I could make them work. It wasn't fun, though." She moved her elbows back to his shoulders.

"How did you make this reactor?"

The fingers from her right hand dropped to the reactor on his chest and she traced the outline of it through the fabric of his shirt. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I'll never tell."


	44. Wake Up Call

**Hello lovelies! Hope your summers going well! I'm shortening the chapters again because the last three were wicked long.**

**_Disclaimer:_ Number 1-In the comics Tony's eyes are blue but I love RDJ's brown, thus there's a mix.**

**Number 2-Previous chapter are undergoing a polish. No major changes, just flow. If you saw anything, let me know.**

**Enjoy! Remember to review! Follow or fav to make it easier on you! You guys are awesome!**

* * *

_"People __never __change because they are under threat or under duress.  
__Never.  
__They change because they see something that makes their  
__life seem valuable enough  
__to start moving toward a life worth living".  
__—Robert Downey Jr.__  
_

The lamp lay shattered at her feet. She wasn't sure how it had happened. One moment, she had trouble breathing; the next, blinding anger rushed through her veins. Broken things were becoming eerily common. She suspected Tony knew since a few weeks prior, she had somehow hurled her tablet across the room and shattered the device. When he questioned her, she had just shrugged.

A new wave of anger rushed through her as she knelt next to the shards. How had she gotten to this point? Why couldn't she get past this? What was wrong with her? She should be over this. Tony was alive. She was back with him. She was safe.

Skylar gritted her teeth. _Was Tony alive?_ The visions spoke differently—visions in the dark of the night she shouldn't _still_ have. A small growl emanated from her throat as she picked up the lamp pieces. She shouldn't be so weak. She shouldn't be so emotional. She shouldn't be so troubled. Her hands clenched around the pieces, shards ripping into flesh.

Startled, she dropped them—blood running down her fingers. She watched her skin knit back together. When had everything become such a terrible mess?

What was wrong with her?

"Keevs?"

Her body tensed as the world around her shifted. One moment, her dim room surrounded her; the next, rubble was lit by a red light that flashed every ten seconds. She was on her feet in seconds, eyes searching for a way out. Her heart hammered against her ribs, only pausing when the scent of coffee hit her senses. The red light illuminated the shifter.

It once again looked like the man long dead. Her body tensed momentarily before she took a step back. Her eyes darted around the room. Dirt and crumbling cement littered the area.

"Keeva?"

Red flashed again. The shifter was only a few steps from her.

_No! _ She couldn't see in the dark. Couldn't think. Couldn't move. What was her name again?

"Skylar?"

_Is that it?_

In the next moment, something grabbed her by the wrist. She yanked free, only to be caught by the jacket sleeve. Her free hand clawed at the shifter. She snarled as it caught her other hand.

The red light flashed, revealing the face of a lion. She screamed. It clawed at her jacket as she ducked out of the fabric. She stumbled backward into the cold wall. Half a breath later, the lion was on her. She screamed again as its limbs wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides.

"Let me go!" she snarled, jolting from side to side—fighting for her life.

"Keeva," whispered a familiar voice near her ear.

_Is that my name?_

"Come back."

She froze. The voice sounded nervous. _Why?_

The aroma of coffee and something else—_cologne_—filled her nostrils. The cologne—some Armani scent, if she recalled—was something the shifter had missed. She had even forgotten about it until now. He had always smelled of it, and it always calmed her—more than any sedative ever could.

Skylar blinked; the scene melted into her dim room. Tony's arms were wrapped around her, but his glance darted about the room. When she followed his gaze, she gasped. Most of the books from her shelves, along with the chair, were all hovering in midair.

Trembling, she buried her head under his chin, watching the floating objects out of one eye. Her fingers intertwined in the fabric his shirt. The second time the coffee and cologne reached her nostrils, her muscles relaxed. The objects immediately collapsed to the ground.

Tony let go of her and took a few steps back, breaking her hold on him. "Is that what happened to the tablet?"

She looked around the room with a shrug before shaking her head. She moved towards him, hand outstretched—desperation to touch something real flooding her veins. Her fingers lightly touched the cotton of his dark shirt before settling on the bottom hem. She swallowed roughly. It was time to admit the truth. "I'm not okay."

"I know."

Skylar winced. The stitches passed underneath her touch, each groove felt beneath fidgeting fingers. Her gaze rose. His brown eyes, with soft hints of blue, studied her closely—she noticed shadows gathered in bags underneath. Instead of a clean-shaven look with his goatee, stubble dotted his face. _He looks worn. Why?_

"You've always been a fidgeter," Tony quipped.

Skylar ignored his joke as her gaze lowered to his shirt. "There… You… I-I still think you're dead," she admitted as she took another breath through clenched teeth. "I want to think I'm okay, but if I still think you're dead, so I obviously can't be."

"Don't forget the fact I think _you_ just levitated every book in your room and the chair. I'm not sure that's common either."

She looked at him. Despite the jest, she didn't see a smirk. Her head tilted slightly to the right. "The world changed. I was in the facility with the red light and the shifter. It smelled of coffee, just like you. It had your eyes, your voice, your stupid smirk…"

"That's why you ran?" he questioned.

She nodded. When she spoke, her voice sounded distant in her own ears. "That shifter was you in every way. I thought this was all a dream. You were dead. And if that's the case, then what's the purpose of existing in a world where you're tormented, abused and alone?"

She tensed as razors seemingly sliced her heart and sent it into a frenzy. Her throat tightened. The image of the reactor lying on the table seared her pupils as her memory screamed in pain from the scalpel and the thought that he was dead.

Skylar looked up at Tony. Her arms rose to wrap around his neck before she paused. Would he push her away again? Would he disappear? Her lungs burned as the lack of oxygen set in. She felt the world around her freeze, leaving her floating helplessly through time. _What's wrong with me?_

Tony's brow lifted in curiosity. After a moment, he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her. As his warmth hit her cold body, a gasp escaped clenched teeth as oxygen flooded her lungs. She rose to her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck—burying her head in the crook of his neck.

"I feel so alone," she whispered—her breath hitching every few words as tears stung her closed eyes. "I feel so lost. I feel like when I wake up, you're not going to be here. And if you're not here, I have nowhere to go. You say I'm bent but I'm not. I'm broken. I'm scared. And I can't get over it. I feel like I get somewhere and then in the next moment, I'm back in hell. I can't escape. I can't believe you're real. I don't want to be homeless anymore. I don't want to be alone."

Her fingers wrapped into the fabric of his shirt. Would he disappear? Her breath came in short spurts. Would she wake up in liquid? Skylar felt him gently push her backwards—her toes lightly sliding across the cold floor like a slow dance. He paused when her back met the chilled wall. Her left ear twitched as his breath caressed it.

"Tell me what you feel," he said softly.

Being trapped between his warmth and the chilled wall sent shivers through her body; her heart seemed to skip inside her chest. She tensed. "Alone?"

"Keevs, what do you feel?"

She held onto his shirt for dear life. Was the sedative wearing off? _Please don't let him disappear._ Her mind spun in circles, seemingly tripping over itself. What was she supposed to say? "Confused?"

Tony shook his head again.

A soft gasp slipped past her lips and her heart skipped a few beats as his hand slid under her camisole. She bit her lip hoping he didn't hear it. Her cheeks slowly warmed as his fingers traced up her spine, pausing between her shoulder blades. She hated when he made her feel like this.

"What do you feel?" Tony whispered again.

Skylar felt cold air hitting her back. Goosebumps raced across her bare skin surrounding the area his hand kept warm. The cold wall nipped at her calves through blue jeans, countered only by his warm body against hers. His warm breath softly caressed her ear while he waited for an answer. Her heart thumped against her rib cage. She pulled back slightly and blinked.

Her eyes met his as she whispered, "Warmth."

Skylar felt his other arm slide across her lower back, chasing away goosebumps as it settled there. A smirk played at the corner of his lips. He pinned her to the wall—bare parts of her skin touching the icy barrier. She tensed and tried to move away from the cold.

"What's the difference between the wall and me?"

"The wall's freezing," she answered, wobbling slightly as she struggled to stay on her toes. "And it doesn't have a heart beat."

His smirk widened slightly as he shifted, allowing her to rest on her feet. "Even a kindergartner could tell me that, Keevs. What took you so long to realize?"

Her brow furrowed as confusion spread across her face. "I don't follow."

"It's basic biology. Living things have a heartbeat. They're also warm," he explained softly. "That means I'm alive, which means you're not alone. It also means you're not broken. Just confused and frightened." He shifted her gingerly so the wall no longer touched her bare skin.

Her right hand moved to his face and her thumb brushed across his cheek. Something internally shifted as his odd biology lesson sank in, and with that came a new flooding of relief. He was alive. She sighed. _He's alive. He's safe._ She felt like laughing as a small smile peeked out at the corners of her lips. _The reactor worked._

In the next heartbeat, his forehead touched hers eliciting a small gasp and wide eyes from her. Her heart skipped again. She momentarily wondered if she was dying.

"And, Keevs," he said softly, "you are home."

That simple phrase did something no other words could. The fortress she remained hidden behind crumbled about her, leaving peace in its wake. Her muscles weaken as if she had just climbed into bed after months of being gone. Her breath hitched and she swallowed back tears.

Tony released her and took a hesitant step back. "Tears aren't a bad thing, E.T. You've been through a lot. I'll let you cry it out." He turned and walked towards the door, avoiding the war zone of book landmines on his way out.

Skylar's brow furrowed and eyes widened as her throat burned from pent-up sobs. She shook her head. That wasn't what she wanted. Despite hating the moments he invaded her personal space, there was something about him being that close that made her feel safe and secure. The fact he turned now to leave made her feel awfully vulnerable. After all, he was the one that protected her and kept her safe.

"No," she whimpered as he turned the door handle. Her muscles shifted into a sprint. Skylar stumbled over a book as she rushed. He couldn't leave. "Tony!"

He turned, his brow raised in surprise.

Skylar nearly tackled him as she slammed into him, arms wrapping around his neck. He stumbled backwards as he caught her—arms wrapping around her. The door caught his fall.

"Don't leave," she whimpered. "Don't leave me, Tony," She felt tears begin to streak down her face. "Please don't. I don't want to be alone."

"Alright," he said softly. "I won't. But we need to talk, if that's the case."

Jagged breaths left her lips as she nodded. Her brow rose. _About what?_ She'd agree to just about anything as long as he remained with her. She couldn't bear to be alone.

He pulled back and wiped a few tears from her face. "I think we've established you're pretty obstinate, and you'll do what you want. But if I _ever_ walk in and find you slicing yourself again like you were before I got in here, I swear to God, Keeva, I will throw you out the window."

Her brow furrowed, and she glanced to her arms. Dried blood lined them. _I wasn't—When did that happen?_ And did he just threaten to throw her out the window? "Isn't throwing me out the window a bit counterproductive?"

"Skylar," he said, his voice firm—no sign of snark. "I better _never_ catch you trying to kill yourself again. I don't want you learning to tie nooses or locking yourself in a garage with the car running. I never want to walk into that. I never want to see bloody bed sheets again. I won't do it."

She leaned slightly backwards as confusion spread across her face. "Do what?"

He tensed slightly as his tired face hardened. "I won't bury you. I've already buried more people than I care. I'm not putting you six feet under, too. I'm not going to sit at another grave side. And after everything we've been through, don't you fucking do that to me. Do you understand?"

She stumbled forward as he pulled her into him again.

"You don't get to be selfish or conceited about this, Skylar. You don't get to decide that I'm dead or you're worthless. You don't get to decide if you're taking your own life. I'm _not_ going to bury you. Is that understood?"

Her stomach twisted, emotions scattering in disarray. "I—I'm sorry."

As quickly as he had hugged her, he let her go with a loud sigh and a roll of his eyes. Her jaw dropped in a wordless protest before she shoved her arms into her jacket pocket and looked away. What had she done? Awkward tension invaded the room like an unwanted guest.

"And that's another thing, Keeva." Tony moved further into the room, his arms folding over his chest as he turned and looked at her. "If there's one thing that's driving me up a wall, it's your apologies. They're irritating. I don't have the patience to listen anymore. You've said your piece, and we've buried the hatchet; let sleeping dogs lie already."

She glanced out the window at the dark sky. Taking a few steps back, she pressed herself against the door—if she could disappear through it, she would. His short temper made her cringe, and his sudden subject changes were giving her fragile emotions whiplash.

"Are we still fighting?" he questioned. "Did I miss the memo?"

She shook her head, brow now wrinkled in confusion. "Are you… Did I… You seem angry with me."

He sighed softly as if he only just realized how harsh he had come off. Tony shook his head before running a hand over his face. "I'm just tired, Keevs. It's after midnight."

"I'm sor—"

"Stop!" Tony snapped. His gaze pinned her to the door. "And _Let. It. Go._"

She bit her bottom lip.

He was silent for a few minutes, waiting for the tension to dissipate. "Keeva, you can't keep rehashing these issues. I _know_ you're sorry. Have you figured out yet that I've _forgiven_ you? Has that thought crossed your mind yet?"

Skylar shrugged.

"We both know you didn't mean it. I'm not stupid," he replied, fighting off a yawn. "And we both know you're not exactly sound of mind. The apologies have _got_ to stop, though. It's annoying. The truth is I could have tried harder. But you slipped my mind at times. We both had things going on. Mine's no excuse, but that's how life deals out the cards. We have to take what we get and figure out how to make a full house out of five different cards."

She bit her bottom lip.

"Besides," Tony yawned as he approached her again. "What would I do without you? Annoy Banner to death? That's only so much fun."

She relaxed against the door, a half smirk on her lips. "Are you saying you need me, Stark?"

"I'm saying you need _me_," he snarked, then rubbed his eyes. "And that _I_ need… sleep."

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, eyes shifting to the window again. That probably meant it would be another long night alone. She didn't want to be alone.

Skylar gasped as an arm wrapped around her and another caught her by the legs, lifting her. She caught sight of his smirk and drowsy eyes. He blinked several times as he carried her to the bed. She was sure her cheeks were red. Another gasp left her lips as he tossed her on the bed. As her back hit the soft mattress and she bounced up again, she laughed.

"Lights, Jarvis," he muttered, and the room darkened.

She looked at him as he crawled in bed next to her. Despite everything, he was there for her. When she didn't think he would ever forgive her, he'd already done it. He gave her a home. _Was it like this before? In the times I—we—can't remember? _"Thanks, Tony."

Skylar she felt her cheeks burn as he leaned over her. "That's what I'm here for, Keevs." He hesitated momentarily before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Night."

A yawn escaped her lips as her ears caught the faint, steady beat of his heart—reminding her of a ticking clock. Her limbs immediately relaxed. "Night, Tony."

"You know," he muttered as he settled next to her, eyes closed. "I don't want to lose you. Who would cook for me? Who would I torment? Who would fall asleep next to me every night?"

She felt his fingers brush against hers. She froze as her heart skipped another beat—fear flooding her veins. Was there something wrong with her heart? It had skipped earlier. In the next moment, his fingers intertwined with hers and her body relaxed again. Skylar blinked.

If she was dying, at least it was a peaceful death. It wouldn't involve pain or torment. It wouldn't be because she decided to plunge a knife into her heart or jump off the tower. It wouldn't be because she felt alone. If she _was_ dying, she was near someone who cared, someone who didn't want her dead. And that alone would keep her fighting for her life.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she fell asleep.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

_It was dark—close to pitch black. He was vaguely aware of his surroundings as he glanced to his left. She faced him, body curled toward his—eyes closed, head on his pillow, one arm across her stomach and the other against his ribs; her chest gently rose and fell. She had one leg thrown over his waist and the other over his legs. How she had managed that position—or was comfortable in it—was anyone's guess._

_He had one arm behind his head; the other was beneath her and rested near her hip. He could feel her soft breath caress his face. How she had ended up sharing a pillow with him, he couldn't recall. Most of the time, he couldn't remember how they ended up in the sleeping positions they did._

_Despite the peaceful moment, something had woken him. His brow furrowed as he blinked away sleep. He didn't hear an alarm. Jarvis hadn't spoken._

_In the next second, she was awake—eyes wide and darting. She sensed it too._

_A scream left her lips as she was suddenly jerked from the bed. He was up in an instant, palm raised toward the intruder—__**intruders**__._

_When no repulsor lit the room, he looked at his palm, confusion spreading across his face. Where was it? Where was his armor? Panic began to spread through his veins like ice. His repulsor __**should**__ have been there. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe._

_She screamed again as his arm was grasped and twisted behind his back. He grunted as he was slammed into the bed. He caught a glimpse of a uniform complete with a logo: a white eagle within a circle. He felt the metal clasp around his wrists and heard the click that accompanied it. He glowered as his eyes found the green lit clock: __**1:47 AM**_.

Tony sat at the table, hands splayed across the cold steel, glaring into the brown eye of the man before him. He had been roughly woken over—what he guessed as—three hours ago when S.H.I.E.L.D. stormed the tower and taken Keeva and him into custody. Stark was now thoroughly irritated—not to mention slightly panicked as to where Keeva was—and fighting off another yawn. "Since when am I up for court martial?"

"That's not what's going on, Stark."

Tony scowled. "Oh no? You dragged me out of bed at a quarter to two in the fucking morning. I was _sleeping_!"

"You should have brought her to me. That would have been the correct thing to do."

"So you could cage her, Fury? She doesn't take kindly to being treated like an animal, and you're far from being a ring leader. You're not smart enough for it."

"Stark, this isn't a laughing matter."

"Does it look like I'm laughing? I'm still rubbing the sleep from my eyes," he growled. He was certain after his conversation with Keeva a few hours prior, she would be on edge. He didn't want to have to avert another meltdown. "And where is she? What did you do with Keeva?"

Fury sat back in his chair. "She's fine, Stark."

"This isn't fine! Fine would have been a phone call during business hours asking to meet."

"Stark—"

"You say fine," he interjected as he started on a roll, "but you're not treating me like we're fine. Fine is _not_ being rudely awakened and _handcuffed_ at fucking 1:47 in the _morning_. No _one_ in North America considers that business hours unless the activities are assumed to be shady! And now, I'm sitting in a fucking interrogation room at, what? Now, four thirty in the morning! This is not fine! And I'm not in the mood, eye-patch!"

Fury sighed. "Just tell me what I need to know."

"Give me Keeva, and I might."

"She's safe."

Tony slammed his fist on the table as dread crept through his veins. Again he had failed to protect her. What if something happened to her in the Helicarrier? Who knew what other surprises Fury hid off the record? "You _can't_ fucking promise me that, Nick. You have no idea what you're up against. And if I recall, you had her on your craft for _how_ many months and never _knew_? This is your final warning. I want her _right now_."

"Stark, I'll be happy to once—"

The metal hinges of the door groaned as they swung open. In walked an agent—that reminded Tony of a frightened rat—who glanced between Fury and Tony, before scurrying to Fury and whispering in his ear.

Fury glared up at him. "Where were the guards?"

The agent shook his head.

"Well, then search the damn ship," Fury growled.

Tony was out of his chair—which fell backwards and skidded across the floor—in moments, and out the door.

"Sit your ass down, Stark."

"You lost her, didn't you?" Tony snarled as he stormed down the hallway. "You fucking lost her!"


	45. I Thought of It First

**Hello wonderful readers! Hope your weeks going well! It's almost the weekend!**

**Thank you to everyone who's reading/following. You're amazing. To the unknown reviewer, thank you for your thoughts!**

**The end scene was partly inspired by _Sleeping at the Wheel by Matchbox Twenty_. It's a great song.**

**As always, enjoy, _review_! And follow to make things easier on you!**

* * *

"_Love without condition,  
__talk without intention,  
__listen without judging,  
__give without reason,  
__care without expectation."  
_—_Unknown__  
_

His brow rose as the vent in the ceiling groaned open, causing him to sit up immediately. If someone were attempting a prison break, they were certainly doing a horrid job of it. When the shifter fell into the cell with him, however, a smirk crossed his lips.

"Nice of you to drop by, Lady Skylar."

She leaned back against the opposite wall. "I was just passing through, Conrad."

He _might_ have believed her if it wasn't for her slightly narrowed gaze. She wanted something. "Did Fury make you a side attraction as well?"

"At his three ring circus?" she scoffed and gave a nod.

Loki was silent for a few moments as he studied her. Her sweatpants and jacket mixed with her messy hair and slightly dark-ringed eyes hinted that she had been woken abruptly. If he were to venture a guess, he would have assumed Fury had dragged her from slumber. _And_ if she was here, the man of iron was probably not far behind. "Tell me, are you the _only_ one in the vents tonight?"

Skylar shrugged as she fought off a yawn. "As far as I know." Her arms crossed. "I assumed you would have been returned to Asgard now that your mess is over."

Loki shook his head. He would prefer to be in Asgard than stuck in the dismal cell. "Apparently, the Midgardians hoped to glean some sort of knowledge from me and persuaded the All-Father to hold me here longer."

"Knowledge from you would be difficult for them to achieve, all things considered. Of course, if you're telling me the truth, this is."

"Quite." He smirked and splayed his hands before him. "What is it that brings you to my humble cell, Lady Skylar? I only assume you hope to achieve some form of answers from me? You are hoping to succeed where all others fail?"

"I gather that you're the only one—_living_—with some sort of knowledge. Well, one that may provide insight."

He inclined his head slightly. He appreciated the fact she did not 'beat around the bush' as the Midgardians seemed to enjoy. "Fair point. What is it you wish to know?"

Skylar shifted her weight to her other foot. "Tell me about Declan."

Loki's brow rose. Did she purposely seek him out to learn about the man? "I can tell you no more than what is locked in your head. Who knows a father better than his daughter?"

"So he is my father?"

Loki inclined his head. "I trust the man of iron informed you at some point."

She nodded.

"And he still insists on that ridiculous notion of calling you by your middle name?"

To this, her brow furrowed. "Middle name?"

Loki rose; the bed softly squealing in response. "Come now, Lady Skylar. You cannot believe Stark came up with Keeva on his own, can you?"

Her lips pursed as her gaze drifted to the floor. "My middle name is Keeva?"

"Yes, and he's the bothersome simpleton who refers to you by it," Loki replied. He slowly moved toward her until he was leaning against the wall beside her.

She looked at him. "How does this connect together?"

He shrugged. "I only know certain things, just as you only know fragments, or your hero only knows glimpses."

"He's not my hero."

An amused smirk crossed his lips as a brow rose. He had not expected to hear those words from her. "You do not consider the man of iron a hero? Even after he rescued you from what I brought upon you."

"I saved him." She pinned him with a look. "I was the one who gave him life."

"You thought he died."

"Be that as it may, he is alive today _because _of me."

Loki nodded once. "Tell me, Lady Skylar. What is your real reason for this conversation?"

Skylar yawned and crossed her arms. "What's the play?"

"Elaborate."

"I don't need to."

He smirked as he moved back over to the stiff cot. "My, you've gotten clever again. Already killed your hero and taken back semi-control of your life. I do not think there is anything left."

Her brow rose as confusion spread across her features. "Killed my hero?"

Loki nodded as he settled onto the cot and leaned back against the metal wall. "That was apparently the plan: to separate you and that man of iron. I must say, I did not believe it to be a very intellectual idea, but it seems to have worked."

"But that doesn't make any sense."

"I agree," Loki replied and glanced about the room as he leaned forward again. The plan had _never_ made much sense to him. Further details, however, were apparently none of his concern. He looked at her. "The man of iron was with the red-head, was he not? If that was so, then why kill her? What did she do? Rumor has it she was a wedge in your friendship, so I do not see the point in ending her existence."

Her brow furrowed and she bit her bottom lip. He watched her puzzle quietly for a few minutes before looking at him again. "You said there is nothing left. What do you mean by that?"

Loki scratched the side of his face. "Simply that the mortal is powerful when you two are on friendly terms. The point was to separate you. For what purpose, I am not sure."

She took a step forward. "Why worry yourself about Tony?"

He shrugged.

Skylar bit her lip as her head turned to the right. Her foot tapped softly on the floor in thought.

"I do have to say, it appears that the plan has gone astray." Loki placed his elbows on his knees and threaded his fingers beneath his chin. "The entire idea seems to be irrational. In trying to separate you, the two of you were pushed together. It's funny how fate works against everyone."

She turned to him. "Who's behind this?"

Loki smirked. "Ah, Lady Skylar, if I were to answer that question you would believe me to be a liar. You place your trust on the wrong cards."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you implicating Tony?"

"I am saying nothing in regards to the man of iron."

He watched her lips form a tight line as her fists balled up.

Loki shook his head. "This is not the point. You are looking at all the wrong things. You should be asking more _difficult_ questions."

Skylar was silent for a few minutes. Finally, she crossed her arms and looked at him. "Like why my memory is blocked?"

He nodded.

"So why can't I remember?" she questioned.

The inquiry was a relevant and important one to all involved. Why couldn't _any_ of them remember? It was also one of which he had no answer. That alone gnawed at him in the dark of the night. "I assume it's the reason none of us can."

"Amora does. Stark said."

He immediately straightened up. His fists curled into balls and he scoffed. "That treacherous whore sold her soul to the devil to send us all to hell! The _Enchantress_ is a good for nothing two-bit wench."

Skylar took a breath. "So, it's not my fault?"

Loki sighed as his fist unclenched. "You did allow her a foothold. She delighted in being number two, thanks to whatever it is you did."

"Do you have a guess as to what I did?"

He shrugged and leaned back against the wall. There were many theories floating out there and none of them made sense. He was just as lost as she. "It could be anything at this point."

"So how do I figure it out?"

Loki wet his lips. "I don't know that you will."

Both of them startled as the cell door flew open and slammed against the wall. Loki watched Skylar take a step back as the man of iron entered. Stark's eyes glanced over Skylar before narrowing on him.

"What'd you do to her?" Stark growled.

Loki held up his hands. "She sought me out."

Stark looked at her, and she nodded. The man of iron relaxed slightly and nodded toward the door. Loki felt his teeth grit. Somewhere in the forgotten past, he remembered the two of them communicated through looks. It made things difficult for twisting words and pitting them against each other in an attempt to stir up chaos. Perhaps that's why he had been used by the puppeteer—he had a knack for those types of things since he never liked when others had the upper hand.

Skylar took a few steps toward the door before looking at Stark. Her voice softened when she spoke to him. "I did happen across him. It is not his fault we're here." She then looked at Loki and he heard a sharp undertone. "Thank you for what little you did provide, Conrad."

"The pleasure was all mine, Lady Skylar." He watched as she exited. He smirked and looked at Stark. "Attempting to save her despite, your short comings?"

"How'd you enjoy the bar of soap I sent?"

Loki shrugged. "You can say whatever childish thing you wish, man of iron. The fact remains it's eating away at you that you seem _so_ unable to protect her when she does place her trust in you."

Stark's gaze narrowed. "I don't know what you and your flock of psycho's are up to but it's not going to work. And where will you watch it fall apart from? Oh, that's right. Prison."

He settled back against the wall. "When the leader comes for you—and he will—you will be helpless to stop it. Every nightmare you've ever had, every dark thought that's ever crossed your mind will pale in comparison to what he has planned for her."

"You love to hear yourself talk, don't you? Regardless, you'll still be singing the jail house blues." Stark turned to leave.

"I take it you know how wolves hunt?"

The man of iron paused and turned. "I'll bite."

"Wolves hunt mainly at night, normally commencing the hunt at dusk," Loki explained and looked at Stark. "They travel upwind so the victim does not know it's being followed. It also allows them to trail the scent. Wolves will test their prey for signs of weakness. It is fact that they will hunt their prey for miles to weaken it before bringing about an unpleasant end. You see, the wolf normally allows the prey to bleed out, die from shock, or a mixture of both. It is then that the Alpha feeds first."

Stark's brow rose slightly. "What's your point?"

"Be careful how attached you become to that shifter. All roads lead to a devastating end."

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

Tony considered it ironic that when he returned from the Helicarrier, he found a note in Banner's room stating he left—_fled_—due to S.H.I.E.L.D. He didn't blame Banner for wanting to stay away from those nuts. Considering that the man could turn into a green monster by losing control of his anger or emotions, Tony was surprised that S.H.I.E.L.D. left Banner alone.

Videos now played softly in the background as Keeva lay passed out next to him. Once again, she had taken up half his pillow—this time he knew it was because she had rolled onto her stomach in her sleep. He could feel his eyelids fluttering as the soft sound of her breath brushed against his ear. Sometimes it was hard not to be lulled to sleep by her.

After countless hours he spent watching the videos, he was surprised that the dark man Keeva had once spoke of did not appear. The man had seemed to stalk her like a lion waiting for its prey and yet, not once had he shown up in anything Tony had seen. Either the man did not exist, or he was good at hiding. With that realization came the understanding of what Loki meant. The mysterious man was the wolf. It was patiently waiting upwind and tracking its victim. He wondered how it was testing defenses though.

At some point in his lucid thoughts, he felt the soft shift in Keeva's sleep as her limbs twitched. She jolted awake, coughing and looking around. She blinked several times as if she was trying to figure out where she was. After a yawn, she curled back against him—face on his shoulder—and resumed sleeping.

Tony adjusted his arm around her—bringing her closer—as his free hand flicked through the air, changing the video on the holographic screen before him. His weary eyes narrowed as Amora appeared on the screen.

_Her heels clicked across cement, arms folded, rage in her eyes. "I should have __**known**__ he was the mole. And that fool's son is protected by the law. If I can't destroy his son, then I'll destroy him. I'll make him wish he was never born. He'll regret the day he ever treated that bitch with kindness."_

_Man, she's dramatic. _Tony's brow rose as the video cut. He'd be willing to bet Amora was talking about his father. That just begged the question: had Amora been responsible for his parents' death?

Tony ran a hand down his face. "What am I missing, Jarvis? Why isn't this adding up?"

He wasn't surprised when the A.I. didn't reply. Jarvis had been less than responsive as of late. Despite pouring over data, the A.I. had been unable to contribute anything of substance. A sigh left Tony's lips. Where was the connection? How did his world collide with Keeva's? How did everything add up?

He shouldn't have found her according to Loki, but he had. He had rescued her and given her a life. She had created the reactor, but from what he could guess it was based off of a déjà vu feeling. The demons had done their best to take him down after Malibu had gone down, but Declan and Jac had seen to it that he survived. He had also gone to Rhodey's to mend the bridge so to speak.

What didn't make sense, however, was his stint in Area 51. What was the point of talking to Ross? What was the point of taking that side quest? He hadn't exactly learned anything—well, maybe about why Rhodey had sold him out. Still, it hadn't exactly been worth it. Even Declan had seemed to not consider the conversation important.

However, it was Declan that brought him there and the man had a reason to everything. What was the point? What was so important about Are—

Tony's eyes widened as a piece fell into place. It wasn't about the conversation with Ross about Rhodey and Keeva. It was a wish to jog his memory in hopes of bringing more memories. That's why Declan had brought him there. The real reason for bringing him had been completely missed—the truth having been long forgotten.

The fact of the matter was: Tony Stark owned Area 51.

_*TiC*TiC*TiC*_

At some point he turned on his side. The warmth of the bed was there to greet him, but something was missing. With eyes closed, his hand reached out, searching the bed. His limbs stiffened. Tony's body jolted, gasps leaving his lungs as he awoke alone in her soft bed.

"Keeva?!"

He heard the click of the door handle and looked over to see her walk in with a bottle of water. Rubbing an eye, she blinked toward the noon sunlight shining through the window as she approached the bed. His body slowly unwound.

"Jarvis, darken the room," Tony muttered as she halted, a brow raised toward him.

She glanced toward the window again as it darkened before she placed her water on the wooden nightstand and climbed into bed. "You look a little flustered."

"I'm fine," he replied as he moved onto his side, facing her.

Keeva gave him another glance before settling onto her back and closing her eyes. "I'll be here when you want to talk about it."

"There's nothing wrong."

Tony wasn't surprised when she didn't answer. As often as he was the bigger person in the—_whatever this is_—she was slowly showing she could do the same. Lately, she would back down from a fight if he was too stubborn to drop the issue—like now.

He watched as her head slightly lulled toward him and her body relaxed, sleep taking over her. It was then Tony realized he missed something he couldn't remember. As he shut his eyes, he wanted to know how he knew Declan and Jac, or why he wasn't the right age. He wanted to remember memories he had with Keeva—that had to mean they had some sort of history, right?

If he found out, however, would he like the answers? Maybe things were forgotten for a reason. Maybe the past wasn't the answer to the future. If he had the option, did he want to know?

"_Change is difficult," Keeva said softly._

_He looked up from where he tinkered with a gauntlet, brow raised. Music played softly in the background._

_She approached him. "It's difficult when the world around you changes and you're not ready for it. You find yourself unable to breathe, unable to act, as you enter into panic attacks. Your mind can't cope with life."_

"_Are you coming to pull me from my garage?" he questioned, suddenly tense._

_Shaking her head, she smiled slightly as she settled onto a stool next to him. Keeva glanced up at him. "No. I just figured you might want company."_

_He hesitated. "What do you want?"_

_Her hand slid down his arm and settled on his hand. "Nothing. I just know what it's like to run, and I don't like being alone when I do."_

_He blinked. He always thought she followed him into the darkness—like when she'd found him three sheets to the wind in garage in Malibu. The truth of the matter was she'd already been hiding in it; he'd just stumbled across her._

_The garage shifted to an unknown grassy knoll among cliffs and tress—__**Have I been here before?**__ Keeva sat next to him as he heaved a sigh._

"_I like all the attention, but I don't enjoy the responsibility. I've got a multi-conglomerate I'm running, armor I'm making, and I'm in charge of the Avengers. That's like raising a bunch of kids most days."_

"_You still act like a kid," she teased._

_He sighed and shook his head. "I don't get why you're listening to me. This must sound like first-world problems."_

"_Everyone needs an ear." She smiled sadly. "And I know what it's like. You have all these obligations, and you feel like you're drowning in them. Look, I know you're arrogant, but that doesn't mean you don't have the same feelings. And after everything we've been through, I really can't abandon ship on you because you've always been there for me." He watched a smirk cross her face. "No matter how badly I want too."_

_The right side of his mouth rose in a smile. "But you get nothing in return except snark."_

_She shook her head. "Friendships aren't like that, Tony. It's about give and take, high points and low. I'm not looking for anything you can give me. I'm not looking for money, or fame… If I'm looking for anything—and if you tell anyone I will find you and kill you—but I'm looking for someone to spend time with me. The fact you've followed me to several places—__**against**__ my wishes—and always seem to pop up and take the time to torment me means more than anything. It sounds weird, and I know you'd never admit, but it shows you care. That means the world to me."_

"_You're wrong." He watched as her nervous eyes turned to him. "I would admit it, because we are friends."_

_In the next instant he was falling through darkness. Fear grabbed at him. He was going to die. __**Keeva can't be left alone.**__ Would Steve take care of her? Parts of his armor drifted past—__**how am I falling in space?**__ The space craft before him exploded as darkness swarmed his vision._

Tony tensed as his eyes opened. Soft gasps left lips and his fingers clenched. Trembles ran through his body.

He blinked, becoming aware of his surroundings. The scent of roses calmed him as he realized where he was. His right arm lay across Keeva's stomach, while the other she used as a pillow. She was still facing him, but now mere inches from his face. _When did she move closer?_ She was also still on her back and he realized she hadn't moved—he did. Despite the fingers of his right hand gripping the fabric at her side, she remained asleep.

Another shudder ran through his bones and his breath hitched again as the explosion played out in his mind—repeating over and over. Was he dead?

Keeva's eyes opened in an instant and she looked at him. If she was startled by how close he was or how he was now death-gripping her, she didn't let on. Her fingers on the hand closest to him brushed across his cheek before settling on the side of his face; her thumb running over his cheek bone.

"What do you feel?" she asked in a sleepy whisper.

"I'm fine," he choked out and shook his head. She was the one who had been through hell. She was the one that broke down. She was the one that fell apart. If he lost it, would she feel protected by him? Comforted? Safe?

Her other hand slid across his arm, down his side and under his shirt causing her to shift more towards him. His body began to unwind as her fingers traced up his spine.

"What do you feel, Tony?"

As his breathing settled, he focused on her. _Damn, she's clever. Or I am since I thought of it first._ "You."

She nodded and smiled softly. "You're alive. Don't worry. I'm here."

"You don't get credit for this. It was my idea."

"And it's the first good idea you've ever had."

Tony smirked, feeling his heartbeat return to normal. "I've had others. You don't get this rich or famous by having bad ideas."

"I saw a few videos on the web dealing with some of your heavier drinking days." She pursed her lips momentarily. "I wouldn't count those as _good_ ideas."

"Well, saving you was a good idea."

She rolled her eyes. "You always have to have the last say, don't you?"

"Tony Stark," he replied.

"Well Tony Stark, I think it's time you fed your houseguest—"

"Housemate."

Her brow rose, seemingly surprised and confused on what he meant. The way her eyes focused on him however derailed any thought. If he leaned closer, what would she do? Normally, a slight blush accompanied her cheeks when he got close. Occasionally, he'd win a soft gasp. What else could he win?

"What?" she asked.

Her question snapped his focus back to the moment prior. He shook his head. "Housemate. Guest implies you're a visitor. You've lived with me long enough to be a housemate, not a guest. Maybe you'd like cohabitant or beneficiary better?"

He didn't win a gasp, but he won a soft smile which he settled for.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For caring when no one else did. For giving me a safe place to stay. For being an ass." A smile played at the edge of lips. "And for getting me something to eat right now since you said last week _every_ Friday will be pizza night."

He groaned as he leaned his forehead against hers. _She remembers __**everything**__._ "Sometimes I still wish you were a mute. I liked when you stayed in your room and weren't seen." He rolled off the bed, pulling her with him. He grabbed her back and legs before spinning in a circle and throwing her back on the bed.

As she hit the bed, she broke into laughter. "You're such a jerk. You always throw a fit when you don't get what you want."

A brow rose slightly. "I'm not throwing a fit now, am I?"

As expected, her brow furrowed. He smirked in reply which caused a hint of pink to color her cheeks. He wasn't surprised when she grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him.

"Call for dinner!"

Chuckling, he chucked the pillow back at her, causing her to break into another fit of laughter. He then left the room and moved for the gantry. As he entered the living room, he felt two hands shove him forward, causing him to stumble. Swallowing a smile, Tony turned sharply around.

"What was that for?" he barked, eyes narrowed—fighting hard to keep a smirk off his face.

She tensed and took a step back; automatically she moved to scratch her right arm.

Instantly, he tensed. If there was anything that annoyed him more than her apologies, it was _that_ habit. Her _constant_ scratching when she got nervous drove him insane. He snatched her hand and felt her muscles freeze.

Tony softened his grip. "Keeva, I need you to stop the scratching. It's just like the apologies. It's driving me up the wall and the ceiling. I can't take it."

He felt her tremble slightly as she bit her lip. She managed to nod.

"I'm not mad at you."

She sighed audible as her shoulders sagged and hand relaxed into his. "I thought—"

He let go of her hand and shoved her shoulder. "I don't get mad that easily." He turned back for the gantry and added, "I'm not you."

She scoffed and he could feel her eye roll. "So where are you going? Your phone's on the dresser."

"Are you hungry or not?"

"I am, but—"

"Consider this a mission," he said with half a smile, pausing at the gantry door. "Iron Man is saving us from starving to death."

Keeva turned her head slightly to the right. "You're going in your armor?"

"I don't see an issue."

Half a beat past before she nodded. "Well, let Iron Man know I want cheesy breadsticks as well. And if he's not back in twenty minutes, I want my meal free."

"Don't you always get your meal free?"

The smirk she fought to keep off her lips shined through her eyes. "Go get dinner."

Tony walked across the gantry as the armor enveloped him. As soon as the HUD lit up before his eyes, his boosters ignited and he rocketed toward a pizza place. When music came over the system he halted, hovering over the city.

Glancing about, he noticed the way the dusk sun illuminated the windows of the surrounding buildings—making them glow like embers. He'd never realized the amazing sight he had access too. No one in the city was lucky enough to get a view like this. As the song played, he spun in a slow circle gazing about. _"I can't help thinking that I was in a daze, I was losing my place, I was screaming out at everything, waiting for the walls to come down before my moments starts to fade…"_

"Jarvis, what are you playing?"

"Did you not want music, sir? Normally, you do," replied the A.I.

"You put that song on purposely."

"I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about."

Tony shook his head, as he started for the pizza again. "You're going to make me late."


End file.
